Crossing the Line
by Auream Lucem
Summary: Emma and Rumpelstiltskin prepare to cross the town line as Captain Hook receives an unwanted visit. Henry is put in an impossible situation and choices between what is right and what your heart wants, will be made. Soon everyone will discover, that there are some lines that are best left uncrossed. (Captain Swan AU: after the events of 'In the Name of the Brother')
1. Chapter 1: Will

**A/N: Hello you wonderful person who has taken the time to open this fic. Yes you! You are awesome. Okay, now that is out of the way. This is my first fic ever so go easy on me darlings. It should be quite long, unless y'all tell me otherwise; by which I mean tell me to stop writing it because it is god awfully terrible. I had this stroke of genius (at least I called it genius) and came up with this string of great idea's, which evolved into a plot, that I was happy enough with to start writing for the audience of the internet. Well... the cool people on the internet, **_**that's you guys my lovely CS shipmates **_**;). Okay I better stop rambling-so in conclusion I hope you like it and maybe y'all could review (pretty please) so I know what you thought of it. :) Enjoy. ~ Auream Lucem**

**Disclaimer: This is purely fanfiction, by writing this I am not attempting to claim the characters as my own. I repeat, I do not own any of the characters in this from 'Once Upon A Time'. All rights go to their respected right holders. This disclaimer holds for the entire fic.**

* * *

Killian hated hospitals, officially. He hated the smell. It smelled like some kind of alcohol, but not the good kind. He hated the artificial lights. He hated the feeling that people were always watching him and most of all he hated the feeling of being trapped. His injuries were partly to blame but the rest of the blame fell on the infuriating Swan girl, who had handcuffed him to the bed. If it could even be called a bed, Killian had slept on sacks of flour more comfortable. According to Doctor Whale, he was trapped in this uncomfortable situation for six bloody weeks, while his injuries healed.

Another thing that bothered him was the consistent arrival of nurses in his room. Normally he wouldn't mind company, especially from the female nurses, but it made sleeping an impossibility. Killian was tired, the accident had only happened yesterday and all he wanted was to sleep. He was fighting the urge to stay awake, but it was an uphill battle. If the sharp pain of accidently moving in the slightest, didn't keep him awake, then the feeling of being trapped did. His instincts were pumping him, fuelling him, with energy and his mind was on a constant overdrive cycle, of developing ways to escape; none however in anyway realistic. It was trained into him not to sleep while trapped, in a strange place you knew nothing about. He was having a hard time convincing himself that there was nothing he could do, so he might as well sleep.

So, you could imagine that when sleep finally came and he was suddenly jolted awake by nearing footsteps, Killian was less than pleased. Greeted by the pain of movement, Killian kept his eyes shut and waited for it to pass. Damn nurses! He cursed internally. However when the click-clacking of heals subsided and the culprit made no move to introduce themselves, Killian began doubting his initial assumption. He gathered it was a women, the sound of heals gave that much away; well, he reasoned, it could be a man with dismal clothing sense, but he concluded that the latter was highly unlikely. _Swan_. Maybe she had come to question him again, the silence greeting him only affirmed his guess. Few women were silent in his presence other than Swan. With his eyes still closed he worked to prove his guess, "Swan?" When there was still no answer, it became a matter of pride not to open his eyes and he began to indignity yell, "For the last bloody time, I have no idea where Cora is!" and his anger became too much as his eyes flew open and he lividly began, "Emma-..." Whatever he was planning to say was silenced by the woman standing in front of him.

"Lovely to know your revenge is still on the foremost of your mind." She said sarcastically. Killian swallowed and steeled his expression. Rage slinking beneath the surface at the implication of the comment. _Cora_.

"I have nothing to say to you." Killian would have closed his eyes and turned away if it wasn't that the action was equally parts painful and dangerous. Cora wasn't the kind of women you wanted dancing around where you couldn't see her.

"On the contrary I have something to say to you." She said tapping his nose, full aware that he was unable to stop her from doing this. "Firstly, as an act of good will," Purple magic shimmered over his body and he tensed as it sunk into him. He didn't know what Cora meant by 'good will' but Cora using the word good in a sentence, never ended well. "I will heal your ribs." She smiled venomously at opposite to the supposed good will she was performing. Killian attempted to move and was only hit by small amounts of pain.

"It still hurts." He said working to keep a begrudging sound out of his tone and he knew he had only half succeeded by the look Cora gave him.

"Well you know my good will only extends so far." She waved airily, smiling at the frown forming on his face. "Don't worry, I did heal your ribs I simple left the bruises. God Hook, who do you take me for?" Cora said with a hand on her heart and a mock hurt face. It was replaced by a grin almost instantly. Here we go, Killian thought.

"What do you want Cora." He said and sighed, he had a feeling it wouldn't be good.

"Just two little favours, since we are such good friends I hardly think that its too much for you. One: I need you to befriend Emma and learn everything you can about my daughter's darling boy Henry..." This came as a shock to Killian, he was almost positive on the way here she had been considering killing the boy outright.

"Change of plans Milady?" Cora shot him a look and he knew not to push. She was close to the edge today, closer than most days and he didn't want to be the one to push her off. She schooled her expression into a smile and continued.

"You could say that." He felts chills race down his spine, if he had to give Cora one thing, it was that she had presence. She looked at him thoughtfully. "And two: stay away from Rumpelstiltskin, I need him alive." She stood patiently waiting for his response and when no answer came she pushed with a, "Well?"

"Well." Killian repeated. Rage was simmering inside him like fire and it suddenly shot out in his words, however his tone was surprisingly icy. "I'm afraid I won't be able to help you, on both accounts."

"What do you mean?" It was a simple question but Cora's barley pinned down rage made the words hold a threat.

"I mean, I won't do it. As much as I value our '_good friendship_' I'm afraid it must be a no, darling." It was his turn to be venomous. Somewhere his mind was telling him to stop, that he'd crossed a line, but his rage at being denied his vengeance overpowered almost every rational thought.

"And why is that?!" Cora shrieked unable to contain her fury.

"I live by a code love, sure it's not the most righteous of codes, but it is still a code. I'm not convinced you still don't want to harm Henry and me taking part in your scheme, is me letting you hurt an innocent child. Something even _I_ wouldn't do. Also, when I lie, I lie for myself, so I'm not going to lie to the Swan girl, for you. Oh, in case you didn't know, she has a knack for spotting lies, so your plan would collapse on itself in a instant and I would likely just wind up handcuffed, yet again. And finally, nothing will stand in the way of my vengeance, _not even you_."

Cora hit the side of his bed with her hand, the outburst seeming to quell her rage enough for her to give him one more chance, "Staying away from Rumpelstiltskin would be easy," She purred. "he is leaving town with the Swan girl and won't be back for some time." Cora seemed to be in control of her emotions, but just barely. It was like a thin layer of ice had just refrozen over her rage, but it could just as easily crack again. Killian levelled her gaze.

"No." He spoke firmly. Cora looked at him, then proceed to scrunch her eyes and brought her hand to her face.

"No?" She repeated quietly eyes still closed. After a few seconds of him not answering her eyes flew wide and she shouted, "NO?!" That was when Killian knew she had fallen over the edge. "HOW DARE YOU!" She spat. "YOUR GOING TO REGRET THAT!" She used her magic to pull him upwards, the handcuffs halted her progress and suddenly the flew off him with a clink, magic swirled around him and he found himself dressed back in his familiar black garments. No time to wonder why for Cora continued, "You are now _worthless_, and do you know what I do with _worthless things_? I get rid of them." She raised her hand higher and an invisible force began to restrict his breathing. He was choking, his hand uselessly groping his neck, trying to make it stop. "Wondering about the clothes I presume? Can't have Regina thinking I'm going around killing people can I? This way the imbecilic people of this town will assume you escaped and when they find your body, that Rumpelstiltskin got to... you-WAIT."

The magic hold that was holding him up dropped him back onto the bed and he was sent gasping for air. Killian massaged his throat and went to punch Cora in the face when he felt himself pulled onto his back immobilised. "Ah, ah, ah. Now Captain, you've given me an idea. I'm going to spell you." She said with a wicked smile but when Killian went to object, he found his mouth clamped shut. "Now no interrupting, it's bad form. I'm going to spell you so that you will walk until you are a few feet away from what your heart most desires. I assume that's still your revenge on your crocodile?" She paused waiting for him to answer seeming to forget that he couldn't, when she realised, she chuckled. "Well, no matter. You won't be able to talk or write or do any form of communication till you touch the thing you most desire. So good luck convincing Rumpelstiltskin to not kill you. If you're lucky, he might kill you the second he see's you. But I know for certain that you won't get close enough to regain your speech, to sway his mind. The great Captain Hook striped of his powers of persuasion, however will he survive?" Cora laughed at her own joke then looked at him with a serious gaze. All trace of the rage he witnessed moments before were gone, like it had never happened at all. "You better hope luck is on your side, because you're going to need it." Cora gazed at him with a tinge of regret surfacing on her features. "Such a waste."

With that she was gone and Killian fell forward as the immobilising spell disappeared. His body righted itself and started walking out of the hospital. He tried to fight it, but to no avail. The hospital was surprisingly empty, likely Cora's work. He walked out the hospital doors, the receptionist too distracted by paper work to pay him any mind. His feet walking at a brisk pace unaffected by his minds screams to stop. He was stuck as a prisoner in his own body. He was trapped again. It was then Killian decided, he not only hated hospitals, he now loathed them, officially.

* * *

It was an hour and a half since Gold had payed Emma a visit, and half an hour till noon, when she was expected to meet him. She had finished packing. Gold had been very vague about where they were going and for how long, so she had to guess. She had ended up with a full duffle bag and a small backpack. She had been sitting on her bed staring at the bags when her door opened and Henry walked in.

"Mom? Are you alright?" No matter how many times Henry called her mom, she still couldn't get used to it and despite the situation she still smiled.

"Yeah kid, just packing." She said and he came over and sat next to her on the bed. She absently began ruffling his hair.

"But your done packing." He said sounding unconvinced. "Mom, don't take this the wrong way, but, I don't want you to go. I think-"

"-Henry," she said cutting him off. "It's alright, I'll be back before you know it." He laughed making her look down at his face.

He smiled and said, "I know, you didn't let me finish. I don't want you to go, but I think you have to, and that's okay." Emma had a strange feeling like she wanted to cry, but she didn't, she would stay strong for him.

"When did you get so wise?" She said kindly.

"I have to be, I'm the grandson of a King and Queen. I'm practically royalty and royalty have to be wise." Emma considered this.

"So does that make me a princess then?" Emma said jokingly.

"Only if that means I'm a prince." He said grinning a little too widely.

"Everything alright in here?" Mary-Margret poked her head around the door. Emma looked up at her, another thing she couldn't get used to, the look of concern on her face. It was so parental and so obviously caring that it made her want to cry again.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I better get going." Emma slung her backpack on and grabbed her duffle bag.

When she reached the door to the loft, she turned around prepared to say goodbye, but Henry wrapped his arms around her before she could.

"I'm gonna miss you."

"Me too kid." She said returning his hug. She straightened up and met her parents gaze. Unsaid things drifted between them. "I'll call most days so you know I'm alright." She said to them and Henry. "I'd better go, I don't want to keep Gold waiting." His words suddenly floated through her head '_every minute I'm here, is a minute closer to me killing Hook_'. Emma shuddered and with a nod she left the loft.


	2. Chapter 2: Motivation

**A/N: Thanks for all the follows, reviews and favorites. Hopefully I didn't scare you off with my replies to your reviews. They all made me so happy that I'm charging ahead and updating. Stick with me darlings, the thing that happens in this chapter may seem a bit random, but trust me I have a reason, a very good one at that ;). If anyone wants to ask me anything about this fic, shoot me a PM. The support is greatly appreciated. Your an awesome person for reading this, legit. Oh, the Cora POV is a onetime thing, it had to be done. I hope you like this chapter. :) ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

Emma exited the local grocery store and contemplated how to pull out her yellow VW Bug, from where it was sandwiched between two cars. She had quickly picked up some snacks for the long, _long_, car ride ahead. Emma dreaded the thought of being trapped with Gold in close confinements, for an extended period of time, but it just had to be done. She transferred the snacks into her backpack. It was resting on top of her duffle bag which resided on the seat adjacent to the driver's seat. It was her small attempt at forcing Gold to sit in the back, giving her as much space in between them as possible. It was then as she was leaning forward into her car, that she noticed something shiny on the back seat. Emma tilted her head and realised it was a hook. Captain Hook's hook, to be precise. She sighed at the predicament before her. It was ten till noon, not enough time to go back to the loft and hide it, and David now had the keys to the Sheriff Station, so she couldn't stash it there either. Emma hung her head in defeat and resisted the urge to sigh again. She reached forward, grasped the cool metal object and slipped it, alongside her snacks, into her backpack. Gold was not in a good mood, the death threats made that much evident. So being with him in her car, with a reminder of the thing that had gotten him into the death threat kind of mood, plainly for him to see, would definitely _not_ help her cause.

Ten till noon? Emma pondered. Enough time for a coffee, she boldly decided. Seeing as Granny's was a ten second walk from here and Gold's was about a thirty second walk from that. The one benefit of small towns.

Just as Emma reached the front of the Diner, she was greeted by the sight of Doctor Whale. He kind of froze on seeing her, looking overly guilty. _Hook_. Her mind instantly jumped to conclusions, spinning many scenarios in a matter of seconds.

"Whale, is everything alright?" She tried for nonchalant, but the desperation ringing in her tone surprised her. What if Gold had found him? She thought, anxiety churning in her gut.

"Everything is fine. I- I just was having my lunch break." She didn't have to use her super power to hear the guilt transferring from his face, into his words. That sentence only contained a part truth, but surprisingly, the part when he said he was having a lunch break, was the bit the tipped her. Emma was puzzled anyway, he practically lived at the hospital.

"Yeah, but isn't there a cafeteria at the hospital?" Emma said gauging his response.

"Umm... Well-" His was saved from answering, as Ruby burst through the Diner doors.

"Victor! You left your pager-Oh." Emma closed her mouth that had unwillingly fallen open. Luckily neither of them noticed because they were too busy staring at each other. Their eyes both turned to Emma. Ruby threw the pager absently and Whale caught it. An awkward silence ensued.

"Yeah. I'm going to go now." Doctor Whale said, but as soon as he finished Ruby giggled, prompting a smile to arise on his face. He turned back to Ruby. "See you tomorrow?"

"Ah huh." Ruby nodded enthusiastically. Doctor Whale just smiled again and walked off. Emma restarted walking towards the Diner's doors. Ruby was staring after Whale, her fingers absently tracing a smile on her lips.

"Do I want to know?" Emma said as she passed the wolf girl.

"Grow up Emma." She snapped playfully. "Sorry, what can I get you, Coffee? Chips? Pancakes?" Ruby said following suit as Emma entered Granny's.

"Just coffee please." Emma said sitting down at a stool. Ruby was still smiling, well, smiling wasn't the right word, it was more of a grin. "Whale?" Emma inquired.

"His name is Victor," She began indignantly but a grin crept its way back onto her face instantaneously. "Yes, we've been spending some time together." She said handing Emma a steaming mug. "What's with the 'just coffee', in a rush?" Emma considered what she should say. Ruby and her had become quick friends and their friendship had only grown since she had returned. Emma suspected that after her roughing it in the Enchanted Forest, they had developed a kind of kin ship. Although Emma wasn't close enough with her, that she had shared with her, that she had stayed in much more unhospitable places then the forest floor, when she had lived out on the street as girl. But her rarely divulged past aside, she decided her friend should know. David had little tact anyway, so it was likely the whole town would know of her trip soon enough. Feeling a little guilty at considering withholding information from her friend, even if it was her habit to build up walls, she answered.

"Yeah, you could say that. I'm actually leaving at noon, with Gold, to help him find someone."

"Rumpelstiltskin?" Ruby queried, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Is this what he meant by 'some of you owe me'? Do-did you owe him a favour?" Emma mind flashbacked to him saying those words at the hospital and was accompanied by a now habitual shudder.

"Yes." Ruby's eyes widened and she could see her making to ask another question, so she answered her before she could. "Ashley's baby. He was-he was going to take her away from Ashley. So I made a deal with him so he wouldn't. All he wanted was one favour. I knew him as Mr Gold at the time, I knew he was dangerous, but nothing I couldn't handle-but, he's Rumpelstiltskin now." Emma sighed. "I suppose it probably wouldn't have made a difference, I think I still would have made the deal having known who he truly was." Ruby was looking at her sadly. "I just couldn't let him have her."

"I know..." Ruby says taking her empty mug. Emma looked down surprised, she hadn't realised she'd finished it. Emma glanced at the clock, it was two minutes till noon. _Crap_.

"Ruby I've got to go, I'm supposed to meet him at noon." She said getting her money out to pay for her drink. Ruby waved her attempts away.

"On the house." She said kindly.

"Thanks." Emma said putting her money back. She headed for the door and turned around. "Bye."

"Good luck." Emma smiled at the comment and walked outside. A brisk wind had picked up and she eyed the grey clouds coming from the east. Winter was coming fast, faster than usual. She prayed for the weather to hold, driving on wet roads required slow speeds and concentration, neither of which she had time for.

She headed in the direction of Gold's shop, rounding a corner only to find him walking toward her.

"Ah, Miss Swan. I had assumed I would find you at Granny's." Emma was quite positive they had agreed to meet at his shop. He was eyeing her with the kind of contempt she had expected if she had been late and she didn't like that he could so easily guess her habits.

"I'm not late, it's not noon yet." She said attacking his unsaid accusation. He just sighed and smiled as the town clock began to chime.

"It is now, and I doubt you would have made it to my shop before it started to chime." He said pointing at the clock. Emma frowned. "Don't worry dear, I'll forgive your tardiness, so long as we leave immediately. Lead the way." He said gesturing to the way she had come, with his free hand. She noticed the other was holding the handle of a small leather suitcase. Following his suggestion she began walking back to her car. Other than the rolling of the wheals on his suitcase. Mr Gold walked silently. She fought the urge to turn and check that he was following, instead relying on the continuous rolling sound to assure her that he was behind her.

* * *

A strange taste enveloped her mouth, it wasn't entirely unpleasant, so she swallowed. Cora looked up at her daughter and asked. "And these are called?"

"Chocolate chip cookies." Regina answered flashing her with a smile. "Do you think Henry will like them. I got the recipe online and-" Cora sat the 'cookie' down on the bench and raised her hand cutting her daughter off midsentence.

"They are simply divine and I'm sure _your_ son will love them." Cora said stressing the 'your' as a subtle reminder to her daughter, all the while maintaining perfect composure. Cora inwardly smiled, self congratulating herself.

"Yes, thank you." Regina said her smile faltering ever so slightly. Cora took this as an opportunity to hammer her point.

"But you are going to need more than 'cookies' to get _your_ son back. You should just go over there and take him."

"Mother." Regina said scoldingly and Cora laughed darkly on the inside. Regina scolding her? My, my she had her work cut out for her. Outwardly she put on a apologetic smile.

"I know dear, I was merely teasing. But I heard somewhere that the Swan girl is going out of town for a little while. Leaving you an ample opportunity to have him stay over." Regina's face lit up at her words as expected. Cora knew how to weave with her words, there was little that they couldn't get her and when her words failed her, her magic would, _make an appearance_. But her daughter's face darkened slightly and doubt was plastered over her born to be a ruler face.

"Mother, you wouldn't have anything to do with her leaving?" Her daughter knew her too well, she would have to remember that if she was ever to succeed in her plans.

"Our good friend Rumple has acquired her services, I surely can't be held responsible for his actions." Cora said innocently. Leaving out the detail, that the only reason he was leaving now, was because she had given him the means to, via the enchanted globe. This seemed to clear her daughters doubts though, as her smile returned as she said.

"With Miss Swan gone, Henry's... _grandparents_... could hardly object to me looking after him while she was away. I suspect they will be itching to do me a favour after the whole... frame job, incident. I'll have you know, I still haven't forgiven you for that." She said accusingly.

"I said I was sorry." Cora said in a hurt tone. Dark thoughts swirling within her and she once again internally smiled as pieces of her plan fell into place.

"Yes, and I only just believe you, don't make me regret it. I assume you will be fine making yourself at home?" Cora only smiled. Regina laughed, it was a foreign sound, hurtful to her ears. Regina should only be laughing darkly, at the misfortune of others, this laughter was different and irritated Cora to her core. All in good time, she soothed herself, all in good time. "Goodbye Mother." Regina said departing the room and sequentially the house, leaving Cora alone with her thoughts.

Cora smiled wickedly, no longer needing to keep her emotions inside. Soon her daughter would have all the power she deserved. The fear of this entire new realm and the power that it gave her. She would get her son back, yes indeed, and Cora would see to it that the townspeople never accepted her. She will make her daughter see that they would rather kill Henry than let him live with her. Henry will die and Regina will be mine, she thought maliciously. His death will break her and she will never turn away from the darkness again. She will marry Rumpelstiltskin's son, giving her ultimate power over the dark one and she will rule this world. Regina _will_ rule this world, her daughter will finally be happy and she will fully understand, that love is weakness. Just as the love she feels for her daughter, is what makes Cora want _her_ to have all the power, and stops her from being selfish enough to take it for herself. Love _is_ weakness, and this is something she knows firsthand.

* * *

Killian had just exited the hospital and from where he was walking, he could squint and see the town clock. It was a little after noon. Killian Jones was pissed off, but was not so surprisingly unafraid at his impending doom. His was ready to die. He had thought he would feel better. He had managed a major blow to his age old foe and yet all he felt was, nothing.

The second after he had done it, he had felt triumphant, glorified, like the immovable sea of rage that had settled over his existence, had been scooped away. But only moments after, it had come crashing back. Like an unquenchable thirst, his lust for vengeance consumed him, tormented him, every moment of everyday. They say all wounds heal with time, but he would like to tell the 'they' to go stick it, if anything time had magnified his need. Made it impossible to ignore, until- until he had met Emma. When he had been with her he felt like a suffocating hold had been lifted, he hadn't noticed at the time, but when she went away it all came crushing back on top of him, twice as hard, and he had realised the difference.

He had then resented her for that. His cruel words while she was locked up, had been the outburst of his negative emotion. But it was also because of the guilt he felt. He shouldn't feel something for her, he felt as though he was dishonouring the memory of his beloved Milah. But that wasn't the only source of his guilt, he felt like he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve his punishments end, he _deserved_ to feel miserable, his punishment was just. He hadn't saved Milah and he tortured himself with idea's of a way he could have. If he had been quicker, better with his sword, more smooth at talking, maybe her fate could have been changed. But he hadn't been. His rotten soul was consuming him and so he welcomed death, to free himself from it.

He thought again of Emma, the irony wasn't lost on him that the magic bean had been the thing to get revived and had brought him to Storybrooke. When the idea had presented itself back in the Enchanted Forest, he had cursed himself for calling it a symbol of her, because he knew it was his best option and he was going to have to use it. Lost in his thoughts Killian focused with his eyes to see where he was going. He had passed the Crocodile's shop. If he had been able to stop walking, he would have stopped in confusion. Where in hell was he going?

* * *

Emma was close to crossing the town line when Gold yelled out, "STOP!" Emma punched the brakes and was thrown forward in her seat.

"What is it? Did I hit something?" Emma said trying to see over the front of her car. She looked back at Gold and froze, a silent tear drop was sliding down his face.

"I-ah. Miss Swan, I need a minute." He said hoarsely and pushed his way over her bags and out of the car. The swiftness of his movements knocked her backpack to the ground and put the duffle on a precarious angle, ready to tip out at any moment. Gold had made his way to the edge of the town line, standing stock still looking down at it. Emma got out of her car and made her way round to the other side. She rearrange the duffle and picked up the backpack. She sighed, slung the backpack over her shoulder and shut the car door.

Emma cautiously made her way over to where Gold was standing. When he didn't yell at her to leave, she stood next to him and joined him in examining the red spray-painted line.

"I apologize." Gold said still staring at the town line. "For knocking your bag out."

Emma copied him and said, "It's okay." After a few seconds of silence and staring, Emma verbally poked ever so slightly. "Do you... want to talk about it?" She was greeted by more silence and assumed the answer was a no. But after a minute or so he answered.

"My son... he wanted to save me. He could see the power of being the dark one corrupting me, so he had me make a deal." Gold voice broke on the words deal, but he coughed and continued on. "I had told him, you see, that there was no way to 'fix' myself, to make me normal again, without killing me. And he- he made me a deal, that if he could find a way to fix me, without me having to die, I would take it. I... I agreed. But when the time came for me to hold up my end of the deal, I couldn't do it. I missed my chance and because of it, I lost my son to this world. I have regretted that decision every day of my existence. Though I never gave up hope that I would find a way back to him, by any means possible. I did some terrible things and along the way I met Belle-" His voice cracking again, but he soldiered on with his speech, small drops of liquid hitting the ground at his feet. "She was beautiful and accepted me for who I was and I- I was still just a coward. I sent her away. Regina told me she had been killed. But she hadn't and suddenly I found myself here with a second chance at happiness. I was a trip away from finding my son, I had Belle at my side fighting for the good in me and _I lost her_. And with her I lost part of me. It's my fault she's forgotten everything. But the darkness in me won't let me blame anyone other than Hook. It's just easier, safer, it doesn't hurt as much as the truth. But if I want my boy to ever forgive me for being a coward, I'm going to have to get past it. Problem is dearie... _I don't know If I can_." He shuddered and looked at Emma in the eyes all trace of tears gone. "If you ever repeat that to anyone, I will kill you and everyone you love. Do I make myself clear, Miss Swan?"

Emma was baffled, she had just witnessed the inner workings of Mr Gold's mind. She had a feeling that he had never said any of this out loud before, so she believed his threat to be beyond true.

"Crystal." She said and Mr Gold hit another invisible emotion switch and smiled.

"Shall we?" He inquired gesturing to the car. Emma turned around and was halted in her tracks. She felt Gold stiffen next to her, having done the same. Captain Hook was half a mile away from them and walking briskly enough, that it seemed like he was going to break into a run at any second. Emma and Gold stayed rooted to the spot, side by side watching the Pirate draw ever near.

"_Hook?!_" Emma shouted mildly incredulous, he didn't stop though, or make any move to acknowledge her call. His eyes were fixed on an unseen point between Gold and herself. She could feel waves of rage seething off Gold and she willed Hook to go away. Emma's logic choose this moment to catch up with her and questioned why he wasn't in the hospital, she decided to voice her query. "Why aren't you in the hospital?" When she was met by another non-question-settling lack of response, she made a move to go forward. But found herself stuck in place. A static mess of purple haze surrounded her body, magically prohibiting movement.

"Miss Swan I suggest you stay where you are." Gold said with his eyes trained on Hook. It had started to rain.

"God dammit Gold! Let me go." She said trying to make her body move with the strength of her will.

"I don't think that is such a good idea." He said this time looking at her. Emma glared daggers at him. Hook had stopped moving and he was just a few feet away, when she felt a little wave brush her mind. _Magic_, it had to be. Hook adopted his cocky posture, which Emma realised had been missing from his movements when he was walking towards them. Something wasn't right and she knew it had everything to do with magic. Hook looked at her silently pleading her with his eyes. Pleading for what? An idea hit Emma in the face, making her feel stupid for not thinking of it before. Her magic. She concentrated on releasing the hold Gold had on her. Imagining it being pushed away in her mind. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Her eyes flew open and a burst of white light flew out of her pushing the purple away. It spanned outwards in a large circle. But something wasn't right. She looked at Gold and was shocked to see panic on his face. Rather than the magic just dispelling like it had in the Enchanted Forest. The circle of magic was coming back. Emma tried to make it stop, but she had lost control. The white magic grew in speed on its return. Rain was pouring heavily and the sky was now black with cloud. In a matter of seconds, Emma felt herself pushed together with Gold and Hook. Purple magic surged and mingled with the white. Lightning struck down in front of them and that was the last thing Emma saw, before the force of the magic pushed all three of them over the town line.

* * *

**A/N 2: Shameless Frankenwolf... :) I hoped you liked this, trust me now all hell is going to break lose. The town is going to turn upside down and I'm going to have to consider adding Humour as a genre, because of Cora. **_**Yes Cora**_**. I hate myself for doing what I'm about to do, because there was so much thinking required on my part. Well once again I hope you are enjoying it so far. Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	3. Chapter 3: Down the Rabbit Hole

**A/N: Hello my lovelies. I glad everyone is finding this fic pleasing. :) I'm sorry for this chapter, I apologised in the previous for the random thing, now you will see the full extent of the randomness. And I also apologise for this chapter being shorter than the other two. Oh, and introducing Henry's POV, hope it's realistic enough for you. He's a very perceptive 10 year old, so I feel that I can get away with the precocious tone that I've written him in. Also,** **Henry's dream is inspired by something **_**Veronica Mari**__**e**_** said to me****. ****Oh and my Chapter Titles, I choose them to sum up the chapter, but they also have multiple meanings. I hope they get you thinking. Get ready for Chapter 3! ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

Lightning struck and the world was just a blur of white light. Suddenly colours swirled around her and Emma felt like she was being pulled around in a hurricane, or a whirlpool. But there was no wind or water, only bursts of colour and the tingling mental sensation, she had come to associate with magic. She saw Henry's face briefly and suddenly. She called out his name and thought for a second that she heard him yell hers back. But there was a ripping feeling, a fall, and suddenly everything faded to black.

* * *

Henry was dreaming. It was a strange dream, the kind where you simply see what is going on and nobody pays you any mind. You are the invisible bystander. The dream itself was a strange crossover, partly _Pirates of the Caribbean_ and partly the _Wizard of Oz_. Henry was onboard a ship and from the black flag, he figured it was a pirate ship. Cannon balls were flying left, right, and centre. The crew was running around in a panic attempting to return fire. Henry cast his gaze to the ship attacking them. It was the _Black Pearl_, Jack Sparrow's vessel. Henry was confused, he had thought he was on that ship. He looked over to the back of the ship near the helm, where the Captain was standing, trying to work out who it was. He was clad in all black leather, with large overcoat rustling slightly in the cool sea breeze. He was looking through a spyglass, directed at the other ship. He had something shiny in his left hand. Upon closer inspection, Henry realised he didn't have a left hand at all, but a metal hook instead.

"Cora." It was his mother's voice he would know it anywhere. He looked back towards the middle of the ship. Emma was standing with her back to him, blocking his view. He moved so she was out of his way and saw an older women in a shimmering dark blue dress. This must be Cora, but his thoughts were suddenly distracted when he noticed her feet. She wore ruby red shoes and her legs were adorned with stripy black and white stockings. She had lifted her dress up presumably to show these to Emma, baring an animal like snarl. Suddenly a house fell right out of the sky and landed on top of Cora. No one seemed in the slightest bothered by this, but Henry couldn't help but wince.

Cora's legs poked out from the house and Emma walked toward them. She slipped of her plain brown shoes and then did the same to Cora's feet. She had just started to put the ruby red shoes on, when she turned and looked at Henry directly in the eyes.

"HENRY!" She yelled desperately and the dream fell apart, shattering like a glass ball filled with the young boy's subconscious imaginings.

"Emma!" He yelled and his eyes flew open. He yelled again. "EMMA!" Henry was in his room. His heart was beating fast and he was breathing rapidly. Something was wrong. He didn't know why or what, all he knew was that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

His door flew open and he winced. Henry had started to shake violently, but when he saw David in his doorway, that didn't stop him from running to the older man. He wrapped him in a hug and David pat his back gently.

"Henry are you alright?" Henry broke his hug and looked up at David. His shaking had decreased in its violence, but a waver could still be heard in his voice when he said.

"I had a nightmare." Henry said, although on second thought, it wasn't really the best way to describe it. It hadn't been a scary dream at all. The thing that had scared him hadn't been the dream. It had been Emma, the way she had looked at him and called his name. It had seemed separate to his dream world; it had felt terrifyingly real, in a way none of his dreams had ever felt before.

"Henry." David said in a part relived, part soothing tone. He walked over to his bed side and lit the candle. David smiled at him. "It helps to talk about it." He suggested. Henry looked at him and nodded. Copying when David sat down on his bed.

"I know." He said. The fear was receding, he looked at the candle's brave flame and felt safe.

"Well how about you start with the name you called out," David said encouraging him. Henry looked up at him puzzled. The bad feeling returning in a instant, like someone had doused icy water down his back. A horrible sensation tickling his spine. "_who's Emma?_"

* * *

Emma was sleeping. It would have been a reasonably peaceful sleep, if it weren't for a nagging feeling. Slowly but surely the feeling grew to the point when she couldn't ignore it. Emma was unwillingly brought up through the levels of unconsciousness, till she was conscious enough to realise that, she very uncomfortable. All her muscles ached and it was cold, cold enough that her extremities were beginning to feel numb. As the numbness of sleep wore off, she was greeting by a panging headache. Emma groaned and opened her eyes. Shock hit her with a small hit of adrenalin, as her eyes met unfamiliar surroundings. Emma realised that she was lying on her stomach, with her left arm bent underneath herself in an awkward manner. She hurriedly pushed herself into a sitting position and took note of her surroundings more accurately.

She was in a forest, but the tree's surrounding her were unfamiliar. The were some pine trees and some she thought were called spruce, but the rest she was at loss to identify. Nothing like the trees she was used to, in the forest surrounding Storybrooke. She did a double take of her surroundings, no road in sight, only more trees. The sun was low, she guessed it was late afternoon. It would be dark soon and judging by how cold it was now, she was praying like hell that she would make it out before then. But where was _here_? And more importantly _how did she get_ _here_? She was flashed by memories of at the town line. Hook, Gold and her magic going haywire. Had she unknowingly transported herself into a forest? Where did Hook and Gold end up?

Emma reached into her pocket looking for her phone. Meaning to call Gold, but when she got it out, a cracked black screen was all she saw. Emma yelled out a very unladylike word and threw it as far as she could. Emma noticed her backpack on the ground a few feet away. She stomped over to it, threw it over her shoulders and let out a great sigh to the world. Emma spun around, picked a direction on whim and started walking. Praying all the while, that it was the right way.

* * *

Killian was hit by a whirlwind of light. The ground was ripped out from under him and he felt his body being pulled by a circular current. A portal. He had travelled enough in his time, to recognise the feeling. Killian Jones braced himself for the final impact, making sure that he was standing straight and building up a mental wall to block the final blast of magic. A feat of immense difficulty when there was nothing to stand on. But Killian knew he had managed to do it right, when ground materialised under his feet and he managed to remain conscious. His head still hurt though and estimated that he would have a headache for quite a while.

What the bloody hell was that? His mind reeled trying to make sense of what had just happened. But first things first, he thought, Killian stretched his jaw and attempted to speak.

"Emma." His voice said traitorously. Okay where had that come, he thought angrily, directing the accusation at his mind. But the fact that he was able to talk, meant that he had indeed been de-spelled. Another treacherous thought made itself known. But what had de-spelled him?

His eyes were quick and rarely missed a detail, so he could trust his memory for an accurate depiction of what occurred, in those few second before he was sucked into a portal.

He had been pulled by Emma's strange white magic towards the Crocodile. He was certain that he had collided with him first, and then Emma. However he had felt the spell being lifted only after he had touched Emma. But he had touched Emma just milliseconds just after Rumpelstiltskin, maybe it just took that long to deactivate. _Or maybe he could no longer trust his memory_. Killian decided to go with the last thought, no questions asked, because he was in no mood to think any more on the subject.

He looked around, he was in a forest. It seemed unfamiliar, his mind unhelpfully told him. There was no way for him to tell where he was, trees encompassed him on all sides. He could be in another realm for all his current surroundings were telling him.

Killian scratched his head and started to walk. The walking gave him time to think and he started to piece together an explanation, to why crossing the town line had portaled him into the middle of the forest.

Killian recognised that Emma was new to magic and he also had the knowledge that magic was unpredictable in her realm. While in Neverland he had come across his fair share of pixies. Young pixies, ones that had just started to use magic, were trained carefully because there magic was very reactant. If not properly done with a teacher helping, it would react badly with all manner of things. Enchantments would be altered, spells would be magnified and other such things unpredictably changed. Although pixies used a kind of blue magic, if Killian applied the same principle to the situation at hand, he found it starting to make sense. Emma's magic had reacted with Cora's spell that was still partly on him. Emma had used her magic to push something away and Cora's magic had to do with what a heart most desired. Put together, Emma had pushed them away to something one of their hearts most desired. But out of the Crocodile, Emma and himself, whose heart most desired something in the middle of the forest? Killian attempted to come up with several other explanations, but finally decided that this was the one that made the most sense and was equally most likely. He put them ending up in a forest, down to the unpredictability of magic in this world.

It was then he realised that he didn't know for sure that the others had ended up here with him. He sent out curse dependant on whether that was true or not. Killian stopped walking. He looked up at the sun and calculated the time of day. It was around five o'clock. The sky was clear and he knew it was going to be a cold night, even for him.

Killian started to walk again and it was then he heard a female voice curse out at the top of their lungs. It was Emma, he was sure of it. A smug smile played at his lips. He hadn't been joking when he had told her she'd make a good pirate, and her adapt cursing continued to convince him he hadn't been wrong. He turned to the left and headed in the direction her aggravated yell had come from, smirking wickedly all the way.

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**A/N 2: Don't hate me! *crosses fingers***

**Oh, as to why Henry is asleep in the middle of the day? He is having a sleep in, he only got up that morning to wish Emma goodbye.**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	4. Chapter 4: Truth

**A/N: Thank you everyone for sticking with me through this. Your review's are basically what is making me write and post this daily... and the follows and favorites also of course. This Hiatus is killing me! Oh, if anyone has a Tumblr account, if you could put in a good word for my fic on the CS tag, that would be much appreciated. I don't have a Tumblr account (I know I should) but I basically stalk the tag daily and would love for those wonderful people that inhabit it, to read my lovely fic. We are all shipmates after all. :D Speaking of shipping, a proper CS scene is coming soon, I promise. ;) ~ Auream Lucem**

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Somewhere his mind registered that David was looking at him expectantly, waiting for his answer, but Henry was miles away.

"What do you mean 'who's Emma'?" He heard himself say. This must be another dream, it had to be.

"I mean, I don't know any Emma's, _should I_?" David said and Henry got off the bed. He turned to David and tried to find some joking aspect in his features. There were none, if anything he looked completely serious.

"Yes you should! She's your daughter!" Henry yelled at him, tears welling in his eyes.

"Henry." David went to walk towards him, but Henry took a step back, so he stopped. "Mary-Margret and I don't have a daughter, you know that." He sounded so sincere, which was definitely not helping Henry's rising hysteria.

"Yes you do. Her name is Emma Swan. You sent her away to protect her from the curse and then she found you, you found each other. We- we're a family, she's my mother-" Tears spilled down his cheeks and his words were chocked up by sobs. Henry had waited so long for them to be a family. With the upset of Emma and Mary-Margret getting stuck in the Enchanted Forest out the way, they were finally going to get back on track, and now _this_?

"_Curse? _What curse? And Henry, you do know Regina's your mother? Don't you?" The first part of David's sentence hit him like a slap to the face, but he answered the second half first; putting off the first part for as long as possible.

"Regina's my adoptive mother, _Emma_ is my real mom." Henry paused, noting the sad look in David's eyes. Just as the older man was about to reply, Henry cut him off. "You remember don't you? That your... _Prince Charming_?" David just sighed.

"Of course I do Henry. But that's not important right now. When did you find out you were adopted?" David was focusing on the wrong thing.

"A year ago. I found Emma and brought her here." He said hurriedly, from the blank look David was giving him, Henry suspected that he didn't remember that either. Henry continued on to the important point. "But if you know your Prince Charming, then how do you not remember the curse? How do you think you got to Storybrooke?" David started to say something then stopped. A hazy look was in his eyes, much too similar to how people of Storybrooke had looked, when you asked them about their past before the curse had been broken. But his eyes cleared and he gave Henry a bogus smile as he said.

"I don't know, we all just turned up here one day. That's just life I suppose." He said it like Henry had asked him why the sky was blue or why dog's bark. Like it was a question that got a brushed off answer and people just accepted that it was true.

"No, the curse sent you here." Henry said adamantly, not giving an inch on his resolve that he was right. "And Emma was the Saviour, she was the one that broke it, helped you remember." Henry realised he wasn't giving a very good explanation, so he tried again. "The curse sent you here, but it made you forget all about your lives in the Enchanted Forest. You were separated from everyone you loved, cursed to never have a happy ending. When Emma broke it, you remembered. She saved you all." David looked thoroughly unconvinced.

"Okay, let's say there was a curse. Then who was the one that cursed us. Because I know just about everyone here and no one I know, would want to do anything like that."

"Regina did it. She's the Evil Queen- _well was_, she's trying to be better now." David looked at him puzzled the haze returning to his eyes, he murmured 'evil queen' under his breath. His brow was furrowed and Henry could practically see the snail pace at which his brain was working.

"Regina was a Queen..." He began slowly and something seemed to click inside him, the bogus smile returned. "But she was never evil, she ruled Snow's father's Kingdom fairly and kindly. She was nice."

"_Nice_?" Henry began incredulously, "She wanted Snow dead-"

"-What's going on here." Mary-Margret said interrupting Henry. He turned to her and ran hugging her fiercely. "Whoa, Henry. Are you okay?" Henry couldn't hold back the sobs as his Grandmother was holding him.

"Dav- David does-n't, remember." He squeaked out between sobs.

"Shhh Henry. It's okay. What doesn't he remember." She said in soothing tones, stroking his hair reassuringly.

"He doesn't remember the curse or Emma and when I asked him about what happened in the past, he had some wacked up version of events where Regina was nice and-and, it's like he's just accepted that we're here in Storybrooke, for no reason. He doesn't even think it's wrong or weird or anything." Henry said hugging Mary-Margret harder with each point. She was silent for a minute. A minute too long. Dread wrapped its icy claws around his heart. He dared to look up at her. She wasn't looking at him, she was looking over his shoulder at David. They were having one of their silent adult conversations. A small flicker of rage flared up in him, at the unknown cause of his current situation. Since he didn't know the cause, it had nowhere to go but in his voice.

"You- you don't remember either!" He wasn't sure why he was yelling, but it seemed to settle the rage as his next words were very quiet. "_Why don't you guys remember_?" It sounded like a plea, a call out for help, Henry supposed it was. Henry felt their heavy gazes upon him and he looked up, met by a pair of equally worried and sad eyes.

"Henry why don't you tell us about the dream?" Mary-Margret said, walking away from him and sitting on his bed like David had done moments before. David sat down on it also and Mary-Margret gestured from him to sit between them. Henry stayed where he was.

"I don't want to talk about it, it's got nothing to do anything. The _real_ problem is, you have forgotten your _own daughter_ and it kills me, because you should trust that I'm telling the truth." Of all the people that had ever made Henry feel small and treated him like he didn't matter because he was only ten, Mary-Margret and David were not on that list. They had always listened to him and respected his opinion. It was crushing him that they weren't doing that now.

"It's not that we don't want to believe you Henry. But if this 'Emma' is real, then where is she?"

"She went on a trip with Mr Gold to find his son. She left, just this morning." He didn't expect this to help them remember, but he _was_ shocked when Mary-Margret said.

"Mr Gold? Whose Mr Gold?" Henry's mouth fell open.

"Rumpelstiltskin? The Dark One? You don't remember him either?" They both just gave him another sad look. Henry couldn't take it anymore. He ran out of his room, ignoring Mary-Margret's calls, he grabbed his bag, but realised he was still in his sleeping clothes. Henry dropped his bag and ran back into his room. Ducking out the way of Mary-Margret and David, he grabbed some clothes. Henry sprinted to the bathroom and locked the door.

When he had changed, he creaked open the door and crept back into the kitchen area. Mary-Margret was drinking hot cocoa and David was pouring himself a coffee. They both just looked at him as he grabbed his bag.

"Henry-" Mary-Margret began but was cut short by knocking at the door. She sighed and opened it a crack. "Regina!" She shouted excitedly. The door flew open and Mary-Margret embraced her in a friendly hug. It was the strangest thing Henry had ever seen.

"Ah Snow, so good to see you. Now where is Henry?" Mary-Margret stepped aside. Regina bent down and opened her arms, as if expecting a hug. When he didn't come running to her she said, "What's wrong?" She stood up and it was David who answered.

"He found out he's adopted. He had a nightmare and now he thinks that his birthmother is our daughter." He said gesturing between Mary-Margret and himself. "He said her name is Emma and there is also someone called Mr Gold. Do you know anything about this?"

"Henry, you know?" She said directing it at Henry. It was strange, Regina looked so normal. Like a normal happy mother who was worried for her child. It was so foreign and made Henry feel uneasy. She had looked worried at him before, but this underlying feeling that he was getting from her, this happiness, it frightened him. He had never seen anything like it in the whole time he had known her. It did make some sense though, if Henry thought about it more. If she didn't remember the curse either, then it was possible for her to feel happiness. The curse had taken something from her, when she had made it, created a hole that she could never fill. It wasn't just happiness that he was feeling from her, _Regina radiated wholeness_. When he hadn't answered her question, Regina turned to David and answered his. "No, I don't know anything about this. I never knew the biological mother's name. I've never heard of an Emma, or Mr Gold." Henry couldn't take this.

"I'm leaving, and don't follow me." He said running under Regina's arm. Down the street he ran, sprinting as fast as he could. Tears were spilling down his cheeks again. He wiped them away annoyed. No more crying he told himself.

When Henry reached the place, he stopped gasping for air. He just sat down on the ground where his old wooden castle used to be, before Regina had destroyed it, and stared out to sea. There was enough salt water in the ocean, he told himself, so no more crying. Sitting here he could almost convince himself that things were normal. But when the thought that he might not see Emma again, popped into his head, even his undisputable logic, couldn't stop the tears from rolling down.

* * *

Emma was trudging, and for some reason it was in an odd way, pleasant. The symphony of forest noises calmed her and her feet sank a little into the semi marshy ground with each step. Similar to walking on wet sand, but with an added squelching noise, as a bonus. She found herself going out of her way to stay on this spongy ground, staring at her feet as she walked. Emma was tired and with each step, her movements seemed to get slower and slower. He thoughts dribbling along, until nothing made any sense. Emma stopped walking.

"I'm lost." She said quietly to herself, and that was when the ground came rushing to greet her. But her face never met the ground, she felt herself being hurtled back upward as someone caught her with strong arms.

"Easy love." Her eyes drank in his face. His eyes an impossible shade of blue, guarded by barriers of black kohl. They were deep, like the ocean, she could see herself diving right into them. His lips smirking at her, moving as his words poured softly over her. "Your head's bleeding, I think you've hit it pretty hard." Emma smiled, her hand reached up cupping his face as she ran her thumb gently over his stubble. His eyes flicked to her hand and then returned to her eyes. "Make that very hard." He said looking concerned, but a fox grin made its way back onto his face and he looked up to attempt to hide his thoughts, obviously realising _what_ he had just said. Emma continued to smile, feeling a little breathless. _God, he was beautiful_.

"Killian." She said in the same quiet tone, that she had used just moments before. His eyes returned to hers. They were filled with a half question, and then she fainted, _again_.

* * *

Emma groaned and cracked an eye open. Her head was pounding hard, a terrible headache felt like it was splitting her skull open.

"Your awake. For a while there I thought you were dead, beautiful. You've been out for hours." Emma flinched at the sound of a voice. She opened both her eyes and blinked a couple of times adjusting to the light, or lack thereof. It was dark, obviously night had come. Hook was sitting across from her, a little fire roaring in between them. She sat up slowly, her body was sore and felt bruised all over.

"What happened?" Emma said rubbing her head. Hook's overcoat was draped over her like a blanket. It smelled of cinnamon mixed with a salty-earthy-rain-like smell, like the sea moments before a raging storm hit. Well, that's what came to mind when she smelt it, those things, also mixed with the subtle odour of leather. It was then she realised she was smelling his coat, she swiftly brought it away from her face. Emma could see that Hook was smirking at her from across the fire. The flames casting dancing shadows across his face.

"You called me beautiful," _Had she really said that_? Emma wondered, still prodding her head, and winced when her finger hit the sore spot. "said my name and then fainted in my arms. It was quiet poetic really. For future reference, I do prefer more manly adjectives darling. Dashing, handsome or sexy, would all suffice." Hook said wiggling an eyebrow suggestively on the word sexy, and shrugging nonchalantly on suffice. The smirk never left his face. Emma didn't buy his story at all. If she could, A: reach over the fire and B: not do it in a way to show that what he said affected her, she would have slapped him right in the face. Instead she said.

"My head hurts."

"Aye, the more accurate, but _less fun_, answer to 'what happened'. You see Milady, you hit your head. I suspect you have the fall from the portal to thank for that. It's going to bruise terribly." The word 'portal' pulled her a little out of her likely concussion related daze.

"Ever the gentleman Hook, but you can stop the false sympathies." Emma thought she saw his eyes harden when she said Hook, but she put it down to the bad lighting and her possible concussion. "Did you say portal?"

"Yes love, I did. While walking in this _lovely_ forest I came across an idea, as to how I ended up here. Your little attempt at magic backfired, reacted with an enchantment Cora had put on me, one thing led to another and ... well, you know the rest." Emma digested this. It seemed to make sense.

"Wait. What enchantment? What were you doing out of the hospital? How were you walking with _broken ribs_?" Emma asked, her voice raising an octave with every question.

"Calm down lass, the details are something of a bore. All you need to know is that that I am no longer enchanted and my body has returned to its peak physical condition." He winked. Hook's tone was light, but his eyes said that any further questions were unwelcome.

"Okay, if my magic made a portal... I'll just use it to make another one?" Emma questioned, modestly proud of her idea.

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Well, unlike you I want to get back. We're lost, in a strange forest and with no idea how to get out." Emma snapped angrily, she couldn't believe him.

"I think saying we're lost love, implies we don't know how to get out." He said smirking knowingly, Emma glared at him. "And it's not that I don't want to get out. Its just, unless you want to faint again, I don't think it's such a brilliant idea. " Emma just looked at him puzzled, so he continued. "But, if you feel like fainting, be my guest. I'll always be happy to catch you when you fall." He said quirking an eyebrow, desire filled suggestions floating across his eyes. Or maybe it was just the light, the world was still very groggy to Emma.

"What do you mean faint? Why would I faint?" His face grew serious.

"Your new to using magic and all magic has a price. Part of that being it puts a real strain on your mind. Creating a portal was no easy job, I'm surprised your conscious at all, that would've taken a hell of a lot out of you." Emma noted that there was a small amount of awe in his tone, she smiled at him, and he returned it with a annoyed one. Emma was suddenly tired. As if the small amount of energy she had regained from her sleep, was wearing off. He must have noticed her dazed expression because he said.

"I know you might not like it, but it is very cold," Emma's body involuntarily shivered as if to agree with him. "We should probably conserve body heat?" Emma figured it was meant to be a statement, but it sounded more like a question. She didn't know whether it was the concussion or something else, but she found herself too tired to argue.

"Okay." She said, her voice laced with sleep. She lifted up his coat inviting him to lay down next to her. From the look of momentary surprise on his face, he hadn't expected her to agree. He didn't waste any time though. He got up and skirted around the fire, slowly setting himself down next to her cautiously. But Emma was already falling asleep, she leaned into him and breathed him in. He fixed his coat, so it was draped over them evenly. She sighed and she felt his body relax. She felt at peace, as she sunk into sleep and his arms wrapped slowly around her. She was almost completely asleep when she heard him whisper.

"Sweet dreams Emma."

* * *

**A/N 2: You like?**

**First Captain Swan scene, maybe you could tell me what you thought of it by reviewing. *wink wink, nudge nudge* **

**Hope it was worth the wait. **

**Oh, and sorry for any errors, I only ran over it once, I couldn't wait to publish it. :D ~ Auream Lucem**


	5. Chapter 5: More Rain

**A/N: Sorry I'm posting this late-ish, I really had to work on it to get it where it needed to be, plus I had to go to my bro's basketball game. :) No Henry POV, Hook and Emma kinda own this chapter. Killian's POV makes a valiant return. Sorry it's kind of sappy sweeties, I was listening to 'Kiss Me' by Ed Sheeran on repeat when I wrote it. This is a romance after all, but fear not, his banter with Emma will definitely also be in this chapter. :) He is so broken, when I wrote this I just wanted to dive in there and hug him and say 'shh baby, everything is gonna be alright'. *giggle* Sorry I just want him to be happy so bad, who can blame me? :) He deserves every sunshine, rainbow and pot of gold the world has to offer. Sorry (again), I just watched the new TVD episode and Klaus gave me some serious Klaroline feels. Which led to CS feels, which led me to writing this very emotional first scene, and listening to Ed Sheeran. Now that's out of the way... enjoy the new chapter darlings! (if my crazy is starting to scare you, I'm sorry :P) ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

The first rays of the new morn shone on Killian's closed eyelids. Out of habit he was awoken by this. The life of a pirate called for him to awake at first light, annoying though it may be. But he was too comfortable to get up. He felt Emma shift slightly in her sleep. _Emma_. His eyes opened and looked down at the sleeping beauty. Her head was resting on his chest and her golden locks billowed out from behind her head. _Gods help him, what was he doing?_ He was drawn to her, he wanted her, he could accept that much, but the rest? She stirred things inside him, brought feelings out of places inside him that no longer existed. Feelings he was no longer capable of feeling, feelings he didn't deserve to feel. She challenged him, she was strong willed and was filled with a kind of fiery determination that he admired. He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve anything. Even after she had betrayed him and left him on top of the beanstalk, she was still oceans away from his level. He had a darkness inside him, fuelled by his rage, making it as unpredictable as it was uncontrollable. Compared to him, she was an angel. Maybe that had been why, without a moment's hesitation, he had forgiven her for leaving him up there. He was sure he held a grudge, but the first time he had seen her in Storybrooke, all that had been washed away like footprints on a beach.

Killian had this feeling squirming inside him, this need to be with her, to never leave her side. He couldn't, and even if he could, he shouldn't. A princess like her deserved so much better than a lowly pirate, _a villainous womanising murderer_. Because that was what he was, even if his mind could twistingly justify it.

He didn't trust himself around her, so as soon as they got out of here, he would get as far away from her as possible. Appease his dept to Milah, and take death's waiting hand, that he had cheated for so long. He gritted his teeth and stopped his hand that had been absently stroking her silky soft curls. He needed to get her back to her son and he had to let her think the worst of him, so she wouldn't see the truth. A truth that he swore never to wholly admit, to her, _or himself_. He decided then that he badly needed Rum, and a hell of a lot of it.

Killian sat up slowly, placing her backpack that he had used as a pillow, under her head, so as not to disturb her rest. He felt slightly betrayed by his mind, which seemed to be becoming commonplace. Maybe Emma had been right, maybe he was going soft. Sunlight glinted of something poking out of the backpack. With his steady but swift thief's hand, he coaxed it out. Managing to do so still without waking Emma. He smiled at his accomplishment, examining his prize. It was his hook. Killian was puzzled, what was it doing in her backpack? He glanced at her sleeping form. If only he had met her in the time before Milah, before everything, things might have been very different. But he would always be Hook to her, and that was the way it needed to stay. When she had called him Killian yesterday, it had unexplainably filled him with foolish hope. It had been stupid though, he thought sliding the hook into place with a click.

He thought of all the lives he had taken with it and encountered a flicker of another strange emotion. He could have sworn it was regret, but it was squashed by the burning rage he felt when the memory of how he had lost his hand quickly returned to him, just as it always did when he looked at the hook.

It was then Killian realised something, he hadn't had the nightmare. Every night without a doubt he would dream of Milah. But it was never a nice dream, it sometimes varied, but it always ended the same. _He_ would pull out Milah's heart and crush it, and she would die telling him over and over, "You did this, you killed me, I never loved you, you are nothing." And most nights be would believe her.

Killian wondered if Emma had something to do with it. Maybe it was her magic. Maybe she could-_No!_ He yelled at his whirling thoughts. Even _if_ Emma had the unheavenly power that would be required to fix him, he couldn't let her, he couldn't use her like that. He sighed and gave up trying to keep his thoughts in order. How did this one bloody woman do this to him? She had spun him into emotional wreck, made him contemplate his existence and she wasn't even awake! Anger welled inside him, he got up in one swift movement, walked over to the nearest tree and punched it as hard as he could. He punched it again and again. His knuckles were bleeding and he was breathing heavily when he finally stopped. He turned and leant on the tree, regaining his breath and slid down it suddenly void of energy. He needed to pull himself together. He laced his hand around his hook and rested them behind his head. He looked down at Emma, she looked so peaceful. He sat like that for some time, how long he didn't know. All he knew was that, when her eyes began to flutter open, the sun was high in the sky; shining down on them gloriously, haloing light over Emma's radiant form. He waited for her to fully arise, before he spoke.

"Dreaming of me lass?" She was looking around perplexed, obviously having a hard time remembering why she was asleep on the forest floor. "Though I can hardly blame you, I am dashingly attractive." He said with a wink. Killian was grinning waiting for her response, waiting to see if he had baited her enough to get a rise. She glared at him and tried to get up, but she swayed and almost fell back down. She must be hungry, he thought and he noticed that he also had a gnawing feeling bugging his brain and his stomach panged angrily, alerting him that he was also. She was standing still, with her eyes closed and hands on her forehead, evidently waiting for her dizzy spell to pass. "You wouldn't happen to have any food, would you love?" Her eyes were still closed when she answered impatiently.

"No... -wait, yeah I do, in the backpack." She said pointing blinding at where she probably guessed it was. "My head is killing me." She continued to herself rubbing her head. Her eyes were still closed, so as Killian walked over to the backpack, he examined it. He had wiped the blood away and stopped the bleeding when she was unconscious yesterday. It looked as though it hadn't started to bleed again, but even from where he was standing he could see a lump.

"You've got yourself one nasty bruise darling." She jumped backwards eyes flying open, seemingly startled by his nearness. It wasn't his fault the backpack was right at her feet. I mean, he thought sarcastically, inwardly smiling, it wasn't like _he_ had put it there. She was staring at him accusingly, and when it went on a little longer than necessary he said. "Is there something you want princess?"

* * *

Emma glared at him for what felt like that umpteenth time, just today. The pirate was just too infuriating.

"That's new." She said purposely ignoring his suggestive question as always.

"What?" He said, but realisation dawned on him quickly. "Ah, the princess thing. Well that's what you are isn't it? _Daughter of Snow and Prince Charming?_" Emma felt it strange that their conversation resembled one she had had with Henry. Those two were anything but alike. But thinking of Henry made her gut twist. Emma had to get out of this forest.

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it." She said grabbing the backpack off him, from where it was hanging off his hook. _His hook_. How had he gotten that? Had he gone through her stuff? "I see you've got your hook back." She said waiting to study his response.

"Aye. It came out of your backpack when you were asleep. So I put it back on." Hook said with a shrug. He wasn't lying, but she was sure his choice of words were anything but a coincidence.

"Came out of my backpack?" She repeated sceptically. He gave her a roughish grin.

"I might have _helped_ it out. But I did not go through your things, pirates honour." He said with a hand on his heart and a smirk way to wicked for what he had said. However despite that, she found herself believing him. He would have known about the food, if he had gone through her bag and while she didn't put it past him to start meaningless conversations, she decided to trust her instincts.

"Okay then." She said and shivered, a cold breeze had picked up. Hook picked up his overcoat and dusted it off, then proceeded to slide into it. A little red flag went off in her mind. "Hook?" He turned to look at her with a frown. "How did you find me?" He smirked.

"When you let out a curse that would make any pirate proud. Can I ask what it was about? I do have some theories." His words were laced with an innuendo.

"My cell was broken. I got mad." She said dismissingly, reaching down to relace one of her boots that had come undone. She realised he might not know what a phone was and straightened up to look at him. He was were giving her a mock surprised expression.

"A broken communication device is all that it takes you to scream out. I'll have to keep that in mind." He said with a wolfish grin. She reached into her bag and pulled out a fruit bar, shoved it at him, hoping to shut him up. She leant on a tree and silently got one for herself and began to eat it. She felt unsteady on her feet, still. She decided she must have a concussion. She remembered reading somewhere that you were supposed to have trouble walking and keeping your balance, for a couple of days after getting one.

"So do you have any ideas of what to do now? How to get out of here?" She asked when they had both finished eating.

"We walk until we find a trail, and then we follow it." He said simply.

"Great. What if we don't find a trail?"

"Then we keep walking until we do."

"Great." Emma said again.

* * *

They had been walking for ages. It was at a slow pace because Emma found it very hard to walk. Hook had offered to carry her, but she had declined. She was still very tired, even after her long nights sleep. She didn't want to admit it, but sleeping in his arms had been the best sleep she had had in ages. But he hadn't brought it up, so neither had she.

There was an air of awkward silence between them. It was surprising, in the time she had known Hook, he rarely had nothing to say. It unnerved her and made her wonder what he was thinking.

Clouds were slowly brewing overhead. They were ugly grey masses, that blocked out the sun. Without its light, Emma found herself shivering against the cold.

"What's with the silence?" Emma said, reminded of their bean stalk climb, however now the roles had been reversed.

"I've just got nothing to say." He said eyes straight ahead. Hook was leading, so she couldn't see his face.

"Well that's strange, normally I can't get you to shut up." He was quiet for a while and Emma took a small conservative sip of her water. It was then he answered.

"Then why do you want me to talk love?" It wasn't really an answer, it was a question, directing the spotlight back to Emma.

"I don't, I just-" Emma began indignantly, before she tripped on a tree root and nearly fell flat on her face. Hook turned to face her and smirked darkly.

"Maybe you should concentrate on walking, rather than talking darling. Because by myself, I would have probably covered double the ground that we have, and if it wasn't dishonourable to abandon you, especially because you're hurt, I would have left you long ago, without a doubt." His tone was filled with malice and his eyes spoke of thinly veiled loathing. That hit Emma hard, she felt like he had punched her in the stomach. Part of her felt like crying, but she stuck with the other larger part, that wanted to get mad.

"Well then stop being such a gentleman! _I don't need you!_ _GO! LEAVE_!" She said planting her hands on his chest and pushing him back roughly. The air was getting colder and the wind picked up, making it positively bitterly cold, but Emma's anger was burning red hot. She ignored the tingling sensation she got from touching him.

"You won't survive on your own." He retorted angrily, the air felt like it was charged with a kind of static electricity.

"WHAT DO YOU CARE!" She roared. "If your fine on your own than just go! I've looked after myself my whole life, I can manage without you!" She yelled furiously.

"Emma stop." His voice had gone quiet, he reached out to her but she swiped his extended arm away.

"I WILL NOT STOP! YOU OBVIOUSLY CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M-" She was yelling at full volume, when he lunged forward and muzzled her mouth. He brought his hook to her neck and pushed hard, right to the brink of drawing blood.

"Don't move." He hissed, Emma gave him a look that said yeah right and was going to push him off when he continued in a whisper. "_There's a bear behind you._" Emma froze, he wasn't lying. When she stayed still for long enough that he knew she believed him, he very slowly brought his hand and hook off her. Emma copying his speed, titled her head slightly.

A bear was standing and looking at them, only a few feet away. Emma couldn't be sure what kind of bear it was, it wasn't one of her fields of expertise. It got back down on all paws and sniffed in their direction. Emma's heart was beating fast, slamming into her chest. She had no experience with bears, she had no idea what to do and she prayed that standing still would work.

After a couple of minutes, _that felt like hours_, the bear turned away from them and walked off. She waited a few more minutes, till she was sure it wasn't coming back and then let out of huge sigh of relief. She was suddenly made aware by her surroundings when a few drops fell on her head. Here comes the rain, she thought unenthusiastically. She realised that she was only separated from Hook by a inch, so stepped back. The clouds seemed to give up their futile attempts to hold the rain in and it came gushing down on them in a torrent of pitter-pattering drops.

Hook was staring at her in a way she hadn't seen before; and for the first time, he did what none of his suggestive comments had managed to do, he brought a hot flush up to her cheeks. He stepped forward closing the space she had just vacated between them. His heart was pounding and she could feel his ragged breath on her skin. She shivered, but not from the cold. His cinnamon and sea storm scent enveloped her. She closed her eyes, and then he was kissing her. His lips met hers fiercely and he wrapped his arms around her. It felt so right, but she was frozen and he kissed her harder willing her to respond. She started for a second to move her mouth against his, but stopped. She pulled back, ripping painfully out of his embrace.

They were soaked, water was running down both their faces and small drops glinted from where they had gotten stuck in his eyelashes. She looked at him with a mixture of hurt and anger on her face.

"_What the hell was that?_ You either hate me or you don't, pick one." She said her voice shaking slightly. Hot tears mixing with the cold rain on her face and she'd hoped he couldn't tell that she was crying. He looked at her sadly and started to say something, but she cut him off. "Actually don't pick, leave me alone." She said picking a direction and storming quickly away from him.

"Emma." He said softly and she stopped walking. She turned around and started tapping her foot impatiently.

"_Well?_" He stayed quiet, a million unreadable emotions playing across his face. When he just sighed and still didn't answer she said, "I thought you were done with me." She didn't say it as a question, it was a confirmation. He still just looked at her silently. "And now I am done with you."

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**A/N 2: Hope you liked this chapter.**

**Word of warning, my classes start in 2 days and tomorrow I have my own basketball game, so we'll see how I go with updating. **

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	6. Chapter 6: Crazy Town

**A/N: On account of the fact that I won my basketball game, I am gifting y'all with a new chapter. Sorry it's a bit late, seeing as my game was yesterday. Enjoy... ... ... :P ~ Auream Lucem**

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Henry had sat, staring blindly at the sea, for what felt like an eternity. He was so out of it, that when Regina spoke, he fell forward landing on his face.

"Henry?" He felt her arms on him, helping him up."I am sorry for startling you." Henry stood up and brushed himself off. He was weary. Crying till there were no tears left, had made him sleepy. It was late afternoon and the orangey sun was casting elongated shadows of anything its rays touched.

"How did you find me?" He wouldn't have put it past the old Regina to use some kind of tracking magic, but then again she had been trying to change. This new Regina, however, he knew nothing about. She seemed normal enough, but her happiness could be a facade to hide what was really underneath.

"I'm your mother Henry, I always know where to find you." Henry looked at her, she both looked and sounded sincere. But it was just too strange and he was unable to shake this nagging suspicion, that she wasn't what she seemed.

"If you knew where to find me, then why didn't you find me sooner?" He said dubiously. She just sadly smiled.

"You asked me to leave you alone, and I could see that you needed some time to think." She let out a long sigh. "But I did have Ruby watching you, just to be safe." He had felt a little like he was being watched and was glad to know it had only been Ruby. It seemed strange that she would be doing Regina favours, he hadn't thought they liked each other all that much. Well, given Mary-Margret's reaction to Regina, maybe she was that friendly with everyone in town. A small bit of curiosity flickered up inside him at the thought.

"So what now? Are you going to make me go home with you?" From the hurt look in her eyes, he realised that his phrasing could have been nicer. He felt even guiltier when she replied.

"No, I just came to see if you were ready to come home. It's getting a bit late and I was worried you might get cold." It was then Henry decided that if he was ever going to find out what happened, he would have to play along, go covert, operation cobra style. Thinking of operation cobra made a lump form in his throat. So he cut his thoughts off, before he could discover whether or not his body could squeeze out any more tears. Henry directed his thoughts back on track. If Regina was behind everyone forgetting Emma and Gold, _he was going to find out_.

"I'm ready, let's go home."

* * *

On the walk back neither of them said anything. They walked through the fence gates and up to the house, remaining in their state of silence. Regina opened the door and stepped back.

"After you." She said gesturing for him to enter. Upon entering, he was greeted by a women's hysterical calls.

"Regina! Regina! Is that you?! Did you find him?!" Henry wondered who it was.

"Yes mother I did. I knew where he was all along."

"You did!" The voice shouted incredulously. "Then why didn't you bring him back sooner! I was worried sick!" The voice grew in volume and was now accompanied by footsteps. _Mother? _Henry thought. _Cora_, he realised. Sure enough the women from his dream appeared at the doorway. As soon as she saw him, she ran to him, gleefully attacking him with a bear hug.

"Because I know when he needs space. _Like now_, Mother let him go."

"Nonsense. You don't mind, do you Henry?" She said squeezing him tighter, making it hard for him to breathe. _This_ was the Cora everyone had been so afraid of? Gold had risked Emma and Mary-Margret's lives trying to keep her out of Storybrooke. What was she doing in Regina's house and why was she so... _nice?_

"What are you doing here Cora?" Henry gasped out, Cora released her grip.

"Cora?" She repeated questionably and turned her attention to Regina. "What happened? Why is he calling me Cora?" Before Regina could answer Henry cut her off.

"Isn't that your name?"

"Well yes dear. But you normally call me Gran-Gran." Henry was bewildered, he looked at Regina for confirmation and she smiled and nodded.

"Really?" Henry said unconvinced.

"Yes silly." She laughed playfully and gave him a kiss on his cheek. Henry was too creped out by the whole thing to move away. He had figured out that something was wrong with the town's memory, well at least everyone he had met so far, but that didn't stop Regina's and Cora's happy personalities from seeming unnatural and weird. "Is there something wrong with his memory? What happened?" She said addressing Regina again.

"Quite the opposite, he claims there is something wrong with ours." Henry stayed quiet, allowing Regina to explain everything he had said. Cora gave Regina a knowing look.

"Come into the kitchen with me Henry, I just finished frosting some cupcakes." Henry nodded and went to put his backpack down, but Regina took it off him.

"I'll go put this in your room." She said and began treading up the stairs. Henry followed Cora, venturing into the kitchen. Unease beginning to swirl in the pit of his stomach, half of him wondering that if behind closed doors, Cora would make some kind of personality split. But she made no visible change, she seemed just as larky and easy going as she had with Regina there.

When he entered the kitchen, he realised Cora hadn't been lying. Pink frosted cupcakes sat delicately on the countertop, each one adorned with a mini candy love heart. The hugs and the kisses were weird enough, but baking? Henry didn't know what to make of it.

"Henry_, _come and sit in my lap." She said coaxingly, curling her finger repeatedly, motioning for him to come closer. Henry fought his initial aversion and made his way to where Cora was sitting, in an armchair next to a bookcase. He hesitantly and awkwardly got up onto her lap. She started to run her fingers through his hair, tugging at it uncomfortably. "Finding out your adopted must have been a shock for you." She paused, waiting for his response.

"Yes?" It sounded like a question. But if Cora noticed, she didn't show it, for she continued with her speech.

"Do you mind telling me how you found out?" She asked solemnly. Henry considered what to say and what she was most likely to believe.

"I was playing games on Regi_-my mom's_ computer, when I hit some buttons and a record of my adoption came up." He was pretty safe going with that. He knew the records were on there, because Regina had shown him them, after he had asked, when she had first told him he was adopted. Henry wondered why they didn't remember that. From what he could gather, they seemed to remember all the events that had happened, even ones due to Gold and Emma, they just didn't know they were the ones who had caused them. It was like their memories had been changed, to make them think they had never existed. The memories hadn't been taken away, only altered and whatever had happened, forced them to think it made sense, even when it didn't. Is was a kind of messed up 'what if Emma and Gold had never existed'. Maybe his adoption was too closely related to Emma and whatever had done this, had felt that it was safer for them to forget that too. Cora brought him out of his ponderings by saying.

"Oh Henry. " She said in a vigorous sighing tone. "If it was such a shock to you and you had a very scary nightmare, then would it be so hard to believe that you might have imagined the whole thing?" She had stopped tugging at his hair and had began softly patting him on the back. Henry gritted his teeth and forced himself to answer.

"It is possible, _Gran-Gran_." He said the name with slight sarcasm, but once again she didn't notice his hidden tone. Upon hearing her pet name, she leapt up with surprising agility, causing Henry to nearly fall over. She bounded over to the countertop a gleeful smile on her face. Apparently that was all she needed as confirmation for her presumption. She picked up a cupcake and bent over, calling him with a motioning cupped hand. Henry noted that, she seemed to be big on overenthusiastic motions, actually everything about her seemed overly enthusiastic. He walked over to her and took the cupcake. She beamed at him with pure delight.

"I'm so glad that's over with. Regina dear, you can come in now!" A few seconds later Regina entered the room. Henry was eyeing the cupcake suspiciously, wondering if it was drugged. Cora picked one up and started to eat it, but he still wasn't sure.

"Henry, are your alright now?" Regina asked and he discreetly sat the cupcake back onto the bench.

"Yeah." He said with a shrug.

"_Don't you like my cupcakes?_" Cora said in a whiney hurt voice, apparently he hadn't been discrete enough. He was about to say he wasn't hungry when Regina answered for him.

"Mother really? They're pink!"

"What's wrong with pink? I find it a very nice color. I might even go as far to say that it's my _favorite color_." Cora answered baffled, Regina merely looked at her.

"Yes, but pink is not Henry's favorite color. His favorite color is green." She was right, Henry's favorite color was green and he was slightly surprised that she knew that.

"Well, I suppose I better remember that for next time. I was planning on making them on his birthday." She said with a pout, sounding slightly resigned, but her voice perked back up when she said. "About that, I know it's still weeks away, but I was thinking we could got out looking for party decorations tomorrow. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Yes it does!" Regina squealed. "What do you think Henry?" He just looked at them like they were both aliens. He needed to fix what had happened and soon. Regina noticed his look and said.

"Henry, you still want a party don't you?" Henry looked at her and nodded while he said.

"Yes."

"Great." Regina said with a smile. "Now let's have dinner."

He followed Cora into the dining room. Regina had gone into the kitchen. They both sat down on the dining chairs, Cora sitting across the table from him.

"Your mother did a lovely job decorating. Isn't this room pretty?" Cora was looking around excitedly, like a fidgeting schoolgirl. Henry had never liked Regina's taste, he found the black and white theme, present throughout the house, to be gloomy. But Cora seemed to have delicate feelings, so he said.

"Yeah it is." Henry started fiddling with his thumbs and decided to spearhead the conversation, rather than Cora, lest she started talking more about decorations and shopping. "I had a dream the other night, it was about the Wizard of Oz and you were in it." Henry stated this, meaning to find out whether she had anything to do with his dream. The fact that he had dreamed her so accurately, couldn't just be a coincidence.

"The Wizard of Oz!" She exclaimed joyously. "I used to love reading those stories as a young girl. Was I Dorothy by any chance? I always loved her and her pretty red shoes." From that answer Henry had to assume, she knew nothing more than she was saying about his dream.

"Something like that." He answered, saved from having to elaborate by Regina walking in, and giving him his meal.

After that, dinner was somewhat uneventful. Regina and Cora asked him a few questions about school, which he managed to answer curtly, then they began happily chit-chatting amongst themselves. Henry finished before them and asked to be excused, Regina nodded, so Henry headed upstairs to his room.

Entering his room, he found his bed made and everything how he had left it, from the last time he had been in there. He sat down on his bed and stared out his window at the clock tower. Thoughts bounced around in his head and he set to work trying to sort them out.

He needed to come up with a way to make the Charming's remember Emma. He needed to find out who else in the town didn't remember. He needed to find out if there was anyone who did, he couldn't be the only one. He needed to find out who had done this and if Regina was as innocent as she outwardly seemed.

Maybe Gold had done it, he speculated. Maybe he had taken Emma away and then made everyone forget, so that they wouldn't come looking for them. Rumpelstiltskin had done worse things in his time, Henry remembered reading about them in his book. _The book!_ Henry had forgotten about it amongst his highly emotional day. It was still residing in the loft. Maybe if it could show it to them, they would remember. It was a long shot, considering that when the curse was in effect it didn't work, but because they still remembered who they were, it was worth a try.

A little red flag went off in his subconscious, something that his mind had been quietly working away at. The pirate Captain from his dream had been Captain Hook. He remembered Mary-Margret mentioning him this morning. If he had dreamt of Cora correctly, then maybe he had dreamed of the Captain correctly too. And if so, what did he have to do with all this; because Henry didn't know why, but his gut was telling him Hook somehow, had _everything_ to do with this. He resolved that tomorrow, he would try to find the elusive pirate Captain and discover if he _did_ in fact have anything do with this. One thing Henry was sure of though, was that he was going to find out who had done this. No matter how long it took him and he was going to fix it.

Another thought popped into his head, didn't Emma say that she was going to call? He allowed a small amount of relief to flood into him. Emma would call, and Mary-Margret and David would _have_ to remember. Everything would go back to the good way it used to be. A pinhead of doubt nudged him and his mind attempted to swat it away, but it came back with more force, raising a very valid point.

As much as he loved Emma and she was his mother, a part of him would always love Regina. She had raised him and although their relationship hadn't been the tightest, especially after Mary-Margret had given him the book and he had found out that she was the Evil Queen. But she had loved him in her own way, and so had he her. She was happy now and as strange as it was, it was real. Or at least she believed it was real, and guilt crushed him painfully, at the thought of being responsible for taking that away from her.

But it wasn't just Regina, there was also Cora to think about. She seemed happy and good now, at complete polar opposite to what people had alluded her character to be. If he broke whatever new kind of curse this was, she would become villainous once more and prove to be a danger to the whole town.

Then Henry came to another depressing conclusion. Even if Emma came back and no remembered her, it would never be the same. She wouldn't have her parents anymore. And after today, Henry knew that even the thought of losing a parent forever, after you had just got them back, was unbearable.

But if everyone remembered, Cora would become a menace. The people of Storybrooke were like his extended family. Ruby, Granny, Archie and everyone were his friends. Would he really risk their safety just to get things back the way they were, _even_ if it was not just for him, but for Emma sake also? Henry knew in his heart, that he wanted his mom back more than anything, but, _was it the right thing to do_?

* * *

**A/N 2: What did you think of happy-favorite-color-pink Cora?**

**Oh, you can thank my brother for 'Gran-Gran.' **

**Ah yes, the lack of Captain Swan... *runs quickly away***

***shouts back over shoulder* **_**the next chapter will be likely all Captain Swan, and hopefully the one after that will return the half-half balance!**_

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	7. Chapter 7: When Fate Intervened

**A/N: I'd decided I wouldn't update until my friend had followed my story, but, she's taking forever, so I might as well do it now. :D As promised darlings, Hook and Emma will make an appearance in this chapter. And no, I don't regret my wording. ;) Got to have you lovelies living on the edge, now don't I. :P Chapter 7 sweeties, who knew my little story would ever get this far? All of you who review/follow/favorite, that's what keeps me writing this story, I eat them like some kind of writing food. I can never get enough of it! So, without further ado, here is Chapter 7. :) ~ Auream Lucem**

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Emma turned back the way she had started to go and ran. Emma ran. She didn't care where she was going, as long it was away; away from what had just happened, away from him. Emma was wet, she was soaked. Every inch of skin drenched with rain, but she didn't care, she just kept running.

_He had kissed her..._

Emma _knew_ Hook, he was proud. He would pursue her with innuendos, till they both stopped breathing and dropped dead. But, he would never make a move. The whole point was to get her, to make a move on him, for him to win in their unspoken battle of wills. _Then why in the world had he kissed her?_

Emma couldn't think about kissing. After... after Neal, kissing had never meant anything. She'd never let it. Her emotions were chained down somewhere in the back of her mind and she didn't let them wrap their way into _anything_. She didn't let herself hope that 'this meant that' and 'that meant this', because when things matter, when things mean something, that's when you get hurt. They say being in love feels like flying, but that just alludes to the fall. Because when someone leaves, there is no one to hold you up, _and you will fall_. You will plummet at terminal velocity, until you connect with the ground, you soul, your trust, your everything shattering into a million pieces.

Emma had been broken. Neal had broken her. No matter how much she had put herself back together to survive, and then recently a little more, because of, and for Henry; she still had cracks. Her willingness to trust seeped through these cracks. She couldn't let anyone in, it hurt too much, because she knew they would leave her and it would be like Neal all over again. She had taught herself to be strong from a young age, she supposed she had to have been, to survive. Being an orphan had been tough, the lingering feeling of being unwanted, the constant question of 'what is wrong with me?'. Because it was the only thing that made sense, if there wasn't something wrong with her than wouldn't people have wanted her? Wouldn't a family have kept her, when she was in the foster care system? Because she had just bounced around like the ugly duckling that no one wanted. And then she had met Neal. Someone had finally wanted her, just her and only her. But it had turned out to be a lie. It had been the fact that she had thought she had had something, something that she had wanted for as long as she could remember and then to be told, actually no, that had really broken her. It had been like seeing the entirety of the wretchedness, that is the soul of the universe. Everything came in crystal clear and as sharp as knives. The life she thought she had, had been dispelled like a little girl's fantasy. She had felt betrayal at its true and immoderate core.

Neal had just walked away. Walked away, taking all her hope, trust and her possible happiness with him away in an instant. He had left her. She had thought before then, that she knew what it was to be alone in the world. But the moment after he left her, was when she truly knew what it meant to be alone. To feel truly alone, you have to have lost something; then when it is gone and you have less than nothing, is when you are completely, utterly and truly alone.

Since then, she had only felt as lost one other time. Her thoughts swirled to the last person she had kissed, _Graham_. It had been ten years since Neal had, without a care, sent her already fragile emotional state into turmoil. She could feel herself opening up and she wanted to. She wanted to trust him, to let him in. It had been in its early stages, but she had felt so full of hope, at what might be. She still had some of her walls up, but for the first time, in a long time, she hadn't been afraid to let them fall down. To let another person see Emma, who she really was, not who she wanted and sometimes pretended to be. She had felt like she needed to be constantly strong, unafraid. But the truth was, even the bravest person knew fear as a friend. She wanted to be able to be herself, not have to hide, and have someone_ love_ her anyway.

Although she never really often admitted it, as much as she had tried to convince herself she didn't need it, she could live without it, she did want love in her life, she did need it. She wanted to love someone and she wanted them to love her unconditionally back. She wanted to be happy, go to sleep next to someone and wake up to them by her side in the morning. Have someone stand by her and never want to leave. Graham had brought back that hope, that dream back into her life, like a wavering but steadying flame inside her. _And then he had died_. The last person she had kissed, considered the possibility of being able to be happy with, had died in her arms. He had left her, just like everyone else. She had felt like she had died herself. All her feelings of Neal abandoning her, had come rushing back and it was then she decided that enough was enough. A girl could only be expected to withstand so much heartbreak. She couldn't let anyone in again, she wouldn't even give them the chance.

That's why she had left Hook, left him before he could get to her. She had left him at the bean stalk, because he _had_ been honest with her. When he had tried to use that in his argument for his release, it had only hardened her resolve. His honestly, his charm, his persistence, his bravery, his trueness had scared her. He had been himself and she had believed him. She had believed in the man that had stood before her. She had looked at him and seen something, and it had awakened something inside her. He had been like a key, unlocking her heart and letting all her feelings, everything, roam free. And she had liked it, she had enjoyed being with him. It had felt right, like second nature. Challenging him and besting him had made her feel alive, in a way she had never felt before.

But on their trip, she had seen glimpses of the broken man that dwelled beneath his walls. When she had asked of Milah, his face had been filled with the anguish of loss. It had been familiar, a look she had once known on her own face. They were so similar, yet so varied. He intrigued her, he infuriated her and he made her want to laugh in a way that made her feel free. Like she could fly again. And that was why she couldn't risk it. So much possibility came at a price. What if she was wrong again. She had only just survived Neal, she couldn't risk being wrong again. She couldn't risk being wrong about him, so she hadn't. She had left him then, and she was leaving him again now. She felt it was better to leave first, even if it hurt, because leaving first was better than leaving last, when you were in too deep. Because then all that you would do is drown.

But as much as she didn't want to let it be anything, as much as she tried to leave him, he kept coming back, he kept finding her. His face kept invading her thoughts. Ever since she had met him, he had been unwontedly stuck in the back of her mind, as much as she had tried to push him out. He was always there. Even when she wasn't around him, she couldn't help but think of him and when he _was _around her, he was all she saw.

Fresh tears started falling down her face. She hadn't wanted this, she hadn't wanted any of this. She felt like her life was some big joke for the universe, but she could never see the punch line. She had her family back, she had Henry, why couldn't she just be happy with that? That was all she had ever wanted, to belong. But as soon as she had met that stupid pirate, she had felt like she had had an unknowing part of her, her life, missing. And she had fought hard not to need him to fill it, because she didn't need him, she didn't want him. For all she cared he could just go away never to be seen again and she would be fine. She would be better than fine. She would get better, recuperate, use her magic and get back to her life. Her life away from Killian and everything remotely pirate related.

..._Killian? _Hook Emma, _Hook_, she thought. Killian Jones had vanished when Milah had died. That much she knew.

But then she realised something. It hadn't been Hook that kissed her, _it had been Killian_... He _was _still in there somewhere- but it didn't matter. He was a broken soul, even more so than she. What had happened with Milah, had destroyed him and with his hand he had lost himself. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he had shouted at Gold after he had gotten hit by the car. She had seen a man full of hate, not only for his foe, but for himself as well. All he had left inside him was his need for revenge. Even if he did feel something else, he would never let go. He had too many constant reminders, his tattoo of Milah, his hook and probably every time he looked at Gold, all he could think about was his revenge. Even if Killian had surfaced somewhere, he was still Hook, and Hook would never change, he would never leave Killian, he would haunt him till the day he died.

She could imagine as much as she wanted, she could let herself feel what he made her feel, but it was pointless. He had said once that she was an open book and now that she had really thought about it, so was he. She wasn't wrong about him, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered, the whole thing was pointless. They would never be together, that could never work, even if a tiny small part of her might have wanted it to. So Emma kept running. Her vision was blurred by tears, but it didn't matter, she could see well enough to avoid the trees and that was all that mattered.

She forced herself to focus on the rain still pounding into her, beating on her body and everything around her with a drumming sound. She let it and her immediate surroundings fill her senses. Forest smells of dirt, wood and the smell of rain... _rain_. Rain reminded her of him. Rain reminded her of him on the side of the road, with broken ribs, making jokes and calling her beautiful. Rain reminded her of him kissing her. Rain reminded her that she almost had kissed him back. Rain reminded her that despite her words, she didn't want to be done with him. But rain reminded her that she had to.

Emma was so busy running, crying and thinking of rain, that she didn't see it, _and then it was too late_...

* * *

Emma turned her back on him and ran. Killian just stood there frozen, as he had been, since he had kissed her. He watched her go, she ran swiftly disappearing from his sight, she didn't look back. As soon as she was gone, his brain finally started to scrap together coherent thoughts. He found his thoughts echoing what Emma had said a little prior. What the hell _was_ that?

Had he just been caught up in the moment? _No_. Captain Killian Jones did not get _'caught up in the moment'_. Why had he bloody kissed her, what was he thinking? What would she think?_ What did she think? _What had happened to his plan to make her see the worst of him, to not see the truth? It had shattered, _that was what had happened_, and he didn't really want to think too long on why.

Everything had been going great, he had said everything perfectly. He had seen the hurt on her face, even though it killed him to hurt her, it had to be done. It was for the best, for Christ's sake! He couldn't have Emma, she was beyond better off without him. The sooner they had oceans in between them the better. It had been a selfish thing to kiss her. Even if he was a pirate and it was his nature to be selfish, to take what he wanted and then some, he would have to be better for Emma. He _would_ be better. The kiss was a momentary moment of weakness, he wouldn't let it happen again. He would try his best to make himself hate her. Then he would convince her of his hate, show her his true nature. And if he couldn't make himself hate her then he would lie... but that was the problem. She could tell when he was lying, so it was better for him to not say anything and if he had to speak, just tell her mean truths. He would pick his words carefully, so as not to tip her off of his true intentions, and it had been working fine until the stupid bear.

He had just kept thinking about what would happen if she was hurt, if she was _killed_. What it would do to him. He could live without her, if she was safe and living her life, but if she _died?_ He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. He had been filled with a dread so precise and worry so profound, that all he could think of, was wanting to keep her safe no matter what. He couldn't lose her, she- ... _she meant too much to him_...

And then the bear had gone and he had felt relief. Relief washing over him in waves, he had been so happy, so caught up in his emotions that his resistance faded and he had kissed her, like he had secretly wanted since the moment he had first seen her. She hadn't reacted at all at first, he hadn't expected her to. He doubted she had thought he would kiss her, _he_ hadn't thought he would either.

But he _had_ been surprised when she didn't immediately push him off and there had been a second, a moment, when he swore she had started to kiss him back. Then she had pulled away and he had ached, for a second, with all his being to pull her back to him; but then the moment had broken and he had froze, stunned by what he just done. He suddenly somehow had millions of things to tell her and nothing to say, at the same time. Then she had left him, like she had done at the beanstalk, but it had been a thousand times worse.

He found himself disliking her for that. Dislike was good. Dislike could lead to hate and he needed to hate her. He hurriedly tried to think of other things he disliked. He disliked her for not kissing him back. He disliked her for not kissing him first. He disliked her for not liking him, for not wanting him as he wanted her. He disliked her for using his words against him in the moment before she left. He disliked her for being a princess, for being too good for him.

But his thoughts, traitorous as they were, quickly twisted themselves in the other direction. He disliked her for _almost_ kissing him back, she could do so much better. He disliked her for letting herself sleep wrapped in his arms, she shouldn't have let him do it. He disliked her for the small chance that she might like him in the slightest; _sh_e couldn't, _he_ couldn't, _they couldn't_.

Killian quickly formulated a plan. He would find her, make her believe that together they had the best chance of getting back to Storybrooke. She would agree, because she would do anything to get back to her son. He would make sure she thought that was the _only_ reason and he would make her hate him. Not so much as that she would leave him and go without him, where he couldn't make sure she was safe, but enough that he would clear any thoughts and possibilities she might be thinking, from how he had been acting and the kiss. Ironically, he realised, the kiss had probably made her _more_ likely to hate him. He would have to use that, twist it like a knife in a wound. He would tell her it meant nothing, that he did it out of lust, that he had done purposely to annoy her and that was it.

He unfroze himself from where he had been standing and stiffly started to walk after Emma. He started to build up his facade. He tried for annoyance, void of any other emotion. He started to hasten his pace, realising he had been thinking for a while and if he ever want to catch up to her, he would have to quicken his stride.

His wall was up and well, and he was sure his face was showing the perfect fabrication of uninterested annoyance. But it all fell away immediately, when he heard Emma's screams of agony ring out across the forest. His recent resolve and plan, dissolved like salt in water. He started to run, faster than he had ever run in his life. But it wasn't fast enough, he coerced his legs to run faster and faster, ignoring the pain. Emma's screams were the only thing he payed attention to, and with every breath, he prayed to the Gods that she would be alright, that he would get to her in time. She couldn't die, because he loved her.

* * *

**A/N 2: Wow... okay, just wow.**

**This chapter was meant to go for much longer, it was supposed to get to a bit after this, but this just happened and I was like yeah. **

**Originally I had 'Oh, and a word of warning... **_**PREPARE FOR DEATH BY FEELS**_**...' in the first authors note, but I took it out. :) Didn't want to spoil the surprise.**

**If you couldn't guess I was listening to music again when writing this chapter, normally I can't listen to something and write at the same time, but it seems to work for this, at least I think it did...**

**I feel really bad ending it here, but fear not, Emma **_**might**_** be okay... eventually. ;)**

**Sorry for any errors, once again I couldn't wait to update. :D**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	8. Chapter 8: Halo

**A/N: I just found out that I had been spelling Storybrooke wrong this whole time. *face palm* I'd been spelling it 'Storybrook', why didn't anyone tell me? Well, no matter darlings, I went through all the chapters and fixed it. I should spell it right from now on. :D This chapter has gotten my 'half and half' feel back again. Hopefully there will be no more 'one or the other 'chapters. But I won't make any promises. ;) I actually hadn't planned to have Grace in the story, but she kind of inserted herself, hope it's alright and sorry about the break between updates. The name of this chapter is in reference to the song by Beyoncé. ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

Henry smiled. Henry smiled all morning. Henry smiled through breakfast. Henry smiled all through school. He was trying to convince everyone that he was fine, especially Mary-Margret. She had asked him before their lunch break, after everyone else had left, to stay behind. She had questioned him on what he had said to her and David. She said Regina had called and said everything was alright now and she wanted to make sure for herself. He hadn't wanted to lie to her. Henry had wanted to tell her, that he still believed what he had said. But if he was ever going to convince her it was true, he was first going to have to find proof. Proof of what caused it and proof of Emma and Mr Gold's existence.

He had leant the hard way, when he was trying to convince Emma of the curse, that sometimes adults needed proof, sometimes it was too scary for them to just take a leap and believe. Although he had managed to get Emma to believe in the end, he hoped this time, he wouldn't have to put himself under a sleeping curse, to get the same results.

Henry's smile was to not tip anyone off, not to blow his cover before he could gather enough proof. He thought it was working well, until right after school had finished and he was walking out the school gates.

"Henry?" A girl's voice called. He turned around and saw Grace looking at him worriedly. At lunch he had causally tried to see if Grace or anyone else remembered Mr Gold or Emma, they hadn't.

"Yeah?" It still was a little weird calling her Grace after knowing her as Paige for so long. But she had insisted on being called that. Most people in the town though, responded to one or the other, without much fuss.

"Are you alright?"It was quite windy and Grace's dark blonde hair was whipping around her wildly. Her brown eyes inspected him curiously.

"Yeah." He said not meeting her eyes.

"It's just, you're acting really weird, you have been all day."

"How have I been weird?" Henry asked innocently, scuffing his shoes on the ground. If Grace could tell him what he was doing wrong, then maybe he could know how to be better at acting normal.

"Well..." She began but stopped. Henry looked up to just catch a little blush on her cheeks. "Normally we hang out, play games and talk and stuff. But today, you just asked me some weird questions and then went off and sat by yourself. I know you used to do that, but I thought we were friends now? Don't you like hanging out with me?"It was Henry's turn to blush.

"I ah... well I-umm... It's just that-ah-I... um..." By the time he had strung those words together, his face was flaming red. He took a long breath and breathed it back. He looked at Grace, she was his friend and he could use a friend's help. "Okay, if I tell you this, you can't tell anybody. Seriously no one can know, okay?"

"Okay." Grace nodded smiling.

"Right well, this is going to sound crazy, but I swear on my life every bit is true..."

Henry was staring at Grace near the end of his explanation, he was worried how she was going to take it. If she didn't believe him, would she go and tell Regina or Mary-Margret? If she did, his whole plan would be ruined. "-Cora actually seemed to be nice. That was when I decided to go undercover. To try and find proof before I tried to convince Mary-Margret and David again. I had also hoped that I wasn't the only one who remembered, but at the rate this is going, I would be really surprised if I wasn't. So now, I was going to go find Captain Hook and see what he has to do with all this."

"Right, because he was in the dream too?" She questioned, a smile still on her face.

"Yeah?" He was waiting for her not to believe him, to say he was crazy, but she didn't.

"That's awesome!" She exclaimed, seeing his look of surprise, she said. "Not the bit about everyone forgetting your mom, that sucks, but the rest, it's like your very own adventure!"

"You don't think I'm crazy?" Henry said bewildered, he certainly hadn't expected this reaction.

"No of course not. My father... he went mad for a while and though he is better now, sometimes I still see glimpses of it and trust me, you look nothing like that." Henry felt himself smiling, a genuine smile for the first time today. Maybe if he adopted Grace's viewpoint, things wouldn't be so bad. He could just look at it like it was an adventure, he was the good guy and good always wins in the end.

"Thanks for believing me." He said honestly.

"You're welcome, now where to?"

"You're coming?"

"Of course, don't hog all the adventuring for yourself." She said, starting to walk off in the wrong direction.

"This way." He pointed and she turned around. She continued walking and Henry joined her.

"We'll go to Granny's first for some hot cocoa and then we'll go to the marina looking for Hook." Grace grasped his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"They'll remember, I'm sure of it." He was glad he had told Grace, her optimism was a welcome change from his depressing thoughts. She was a great friend and it felt good not to be all alone with his troubles.

"Thanks for everything Grace."

"You're welcome." She said beaming at him, and they walked all the way to Granny's, hand in hand.

* * *

One moment Emma was running through the rain, through the forest, then the next she stepped on something. A vice like grip snapped around her calf and she heard a sickening snap. Pain jolted through her and she heard herself screaming. She had nearly fallen completely over. Whatever was holding her leg, had stopped her from falling straight down. Instead she was bracing herself on her hands. But Emma couldn't think, all she felt was pain. Agonising pain ripping through her, originating from her right leg. She couldn't stop herself screaming out and tears ran down her face involuntarily. It felt like something had just about hacked her calf off.

Emma found herself fighting a losing battle with consciousness. She was exhausted, running on small rations of food and still recovering from her minor concussion. The pain was unbearable and she felt her mind starting to quit on her. She needed to stay awake, to somehow get out of this, she was all alone and if she passed out she would likely bleed to death. She could feel the hot blood gushing out, it seemed like a lot, it made her wonder how much blood you could lose. Emma's eyes were drooping, she started to see stars and heard popping noises in her ears. In case she didn't wake up again, she thought out a silent apology. _I'm sorry Henry_.

* * *

She had stopped screaming. Killian still ran. He ran through the pouring rain, blanketed in a film of darkness. The dark clouds had blocked out the low hanging sun and only a few rays of light made it through. It was getting very close to dark, Killian estimated he had less than a hour till the sun set. He hoped he was going the right way, he no longer had her voice to guide him.

Killian kept thinking how it was his fault. If she died now, he would be entirely to blame. _He _had_ made _her run off. If she died, her blood would be on his hands. She can't die, I won't let her, he thought adamantly. If she died he would die. After Milah, the only thing that had kept him going was his obligation to avenge her, to repay her for his inability to save her. Then he had seen his crocodile and he had just wanted him to end it all. When he had spared him, he had forced himself to pull it together. Then he had hurt the crocodile's heart by destroying his love, but it had done nothing. He had felt no different. The only time he felt anything was with Emma and if she died, then he would feel less than nothing. He would no longer be able to live with himself.

Emma had come into his life like a brilliant shining star. If she died because of him, he would be killing the only good thing in his life, the thing that had made him question whether there could ever be more for him than his revenge. And after that, he didn't know who he would be. Killian would be dead, all that would be left was a man completely consumed by darkness. And he wasn't sure if a man like that would bother living.

He squinted, Killian could just make out a shape up ahead. As he drew near he realised it was Emma.

"Emma?" She looked like she had just fallen over. He could see her wet tangled blonde curls, but not her face. She was bracing her hands on the ground rigidly straight. As he got closer he could see her shaking. He stepped over a fallen log, which was just behind Emma and partly obstructing his view. He nearly fell over at the abhorred sight.

A leg hold trap gripped its vulgar teeth around her calf, about a quarter of the way up. It cut viciously into her flesh. Her calf was bent slightly, at an irregular angle, suggesting it might be broken. Blood was gushing from the wound, pooling on the forest floor. If it weren't for the metal spacers between the jaws, then it would have cut all the way to the bone.

"_Hook?_" Emma choked out. "_What are you_-" Her words were cut off by a shout of pain, as she tried to move.

"Emma don't move, I'm going to get you out of it." Killian sounded surprisingly calm, internally he was freaking out. He tried to calm his thoughts, if he was going to save Emma, he was going to have to think clearly.

Killian was a man of the sea, but he did have some knowledge of hunting and traps. This trap was spring loaded. The plate that Emma had stepped on had caused the jaws to snap up. Two springs stuck out on either sides, if he stepped on them the trap should release. He tried to do just that, but the trap was rusted and stiff, his weight was not enough to move the stubborn thing. He bounced on it, but to no avail. Killian had to hurry up, Emma was losing too much blood, if he didn't get it off her soon...

Killian stepped off it, mustered up all his strength and jumped on the bloody thing with all his might. The springs went down and the jaws broke their death grip with Emma's leg. He lifted her leg off as quickly and gently as he could. Emma moaned slightly, but it sounded distant.

"Emma you have to stay with me love." He wasn't sure if she had knocked her head again, when she had fallen down, but she had certainly hurt her head really badly before, and you could only survive so many bad knocks to the head. "I'm going to turn you over." He gently rolled her over and got a better look at the wound. It wasn't pretty.

He thanked the Gods he taken the time to get a new flask of Rum, when he had been aboard his ship. He got it out.

"I won't lie darling, this is going to hurt." He first straightened her leg, her body tensed at the pain, Emma jolted upwards and back down as if pulled by an invisible string. Killian ripped up the hem of her muddy and blood stained jeans to reveal the wound. He also poured a good deal of Rum on the wound and she was unable to stifle a cry out in pain. He looked down at himself in disdain, he needed fabric to stop the bleeding, his leather wasn't going to cut it and her jeans were too mud covered to be any use. He looked at Emma's relatively clean fabric top. If she survived this, she was going to kill him. He started to rip it off her into strips. Emma was too weak to stop him. She was just lying there with her eyes squinted shut, her irregular breathing the only sign she was conscious. He doused a couple of the strips of her shirt with Rum and used them to wrap tightly around the wound. Her leg had already started to swell up. When he had used enough to stop the bleeding Killian wondered what to do next.

She likely had a brain injury, she had lost copious amounts of blood and was running on rations. Although he was no doctor, bits of rust were in the wound and he knew that wasn't good. It would likely get infected, he only had so much Rum and she only had so much shirt. He didn't know exactly how long he would be able to redress the wound for, but he knew it wasn't that long. He needed to find help, but they had seen absolutely no signs of life and they had been walking for hours. _Or had they?_

The trap. Hunters wouldn't have placed it in the middle of nowhere. They would have to be close to a trail, a house or something. He couldn't leave Emma here, the bear might come back and she would be an easy meal. He looked around and grabbed the two most sturdy sticks he could see. Killian placed them either side of her leg and used to remaining strips of fabric to make a make shift splint. He might not be a doctor, but he was the Captain of a ship, he knew basic first aid.

Emma was shivering and Hook realised her lack of shirt, was probably not helping her stay warm. She was still wearing her leather jacket, but the rest of her front section was bare to the chilling wind. He gathered up the remaining strips of her shirt and his Rum and returned them both to his jacket pockets. He then took it off and was about to cover her with it, when he was caught up in her beauty. She was angel with a halo of golden curls. Also she would die of cold if he didn't hurry up and cover her up, his mind chided him. He covered her and picked her up in his arms.

She was still conscious, but he wasn't sure how long it was going to last. He was a little surprised when she whispered to him, he thought she would be too tired and in pain to speak.

"How did you find me?"

"Once again your screams aided my tracking." But he surprised himself again when he continued. "But Emma, if your hurt, I will always be there to save you. I will always find you."

"That's _my parents_ mantra." He felt himself smirking, he had to applaud her light heartedness, even in such a dire situation.

"Well how about, 'I'll always be there to rip your clothes off'." He suggested looking down at her. Even though she was struggling to stay conscious, she still managed to glare at him. He smiled back, he knew then that she was going to be alright. He suddenly had complete faith.

Small white particles had began to fall around them. He hadn't been walking long, before the ground was covered in a thin layer of it. The wind howled and the snow began to fall at greater magnitudes. Killian didn't stop walking though, he could feel in his bones that he was close.

He felt like the heavens had opened up, when he saw the sight of what looked like a clearing, up ahead. He drew closer and saw it was the start of a road and across the road was a house. He was freezing but he didn't care, Killian's thoughts were fixated on the house. It was a big double story log cabin. A flag hung off it, but through the snow and dark he could only just make it out. It was red and white with some kind of crown on it. Killian crossed the dirt road and bounded up to the house.

"Hello?" He yelled. "Is anyone in there? My friend is hurt, she needs medical attention!" He rearranged Emma so he could bang on the door. When there was no response, he kicked the doormat over. A small silver key was located underneath it. He managed to pick it up, still holding Emma. Her eyes were closed, whether she had passed out or simply fallen asleep, he wasn't sure. He slid the key into the lock and swung the door open. He deducted that the residents were either very heavy sleepers or were not home.

He saw a light switch and tried to flick it, nothing happened. The house was dark, almost foreboding. Killian made his way further in and noticed a massive fireplace surrounded by couches. He lightly laid Emma down on one of these. There was a small square wooden door on the wall near the fire place. He opened it and found on the other side, stacks of firewood and other fire lighting materials.

It wasn't long until Killian had a roaring fire going. Killian didn't know too much about this world's houses, most of what he had learnt, he had gotten from his first mate Smee. He had shown him around his own home and taught him some of the basics of this world.

He found the house's kitchen and after rooting around in several draws, he found some candles. He brought them back to the living room. They would be helpful if he needed to explore more of the house. He realised Emma was still wearing her backpack so he gently titled her and slid it off her back. He put it down on the floor. Killian noticed a woollen blanket spread over one of the couches. He took it and switched his jacket with the blanket. He slipped off his boots and then laid down on one of the couches next to Emma, so that his head was facing hers. She was sleeping peacefully, with the firelight flickering over her features. _He had saved her_, and in saving her, _she had saved him_.

* * *

**A/N 2: Did you like Grace?**

**Has anyone figured out where they are?**

**I was going to make Hook try and call for an ambulance, but I realised he wouldn't know the number. :P**

**As always sorry for any errors.**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	9. Chapter 9: Red

**A/N: Darlings, darlings, this is the chapter where you finally find out where they are. Hmm, something happened, so one of the reveals I had planned for this chapter will have to wait. I realised I have to move a scene forward for the story to make sense, so the reveal had to be pushed back. But trust me sweeties it's worth the wait. I hope this chapter answers some of your questions and poses some new ones... ;) ~ Auream Lucem**

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Emma awoke to a high, triangular, white plaster ceiling with sections of evenly spaced mahogany beams, supporting patterned arches. Obviously designed for structural support, but gave a magnificent elegant air. There was a throbbing pain in her right leg and as Emma stared at the ceiling, her mind clicked bits and pieces into place; allowing her to slowly understand what had happened.

She had been running and crying in the rain. Running away from Hook. Something had bitten her leg and... _Hook had saved her_. There was no doubt about it, she remembered him finding her. Hook had saved her, smug comments and all. He had come back after she had left him. Emma remember part of their conversation when she had been in Gold's cell. When she had told him surely, that he would have done the same and left her, he had replied 'actually no'. It had resonated with her. His honesty, it had been one of the most sincere things he had said to her. But it was only now that she found herself believing him.

One thing, however, still didn't make any sense. Why was he doing this? He was a man with little honour and grey morals, but morals all the same. Yet he had a temper, and her yelling at him to leave her alone and then promptly leaving herself, when he made no move to, surely would have infuriated him enough for him to follow her wishes, even if it was only to avoid her out of annoyance. He shouldn't have gone after her, other than appeasing some flippant code, he had nothing to gain. She had ran far enough away, that he wouldn't have heard her cry out if he had stayed where he was. But he had followed her, she dazedly remembered him mentioning something about tracking. Why was he tracking her? That damn pirate, why couldn't he just leave her alone? She remembered that she had asked him _how_ he had found her, but she had meant to, and should have asked him _why_.

Emma titled her head to the side and gazed into a roaring fire. The room was quite dim, the majority of the lightning was thanks to the fire. Lost in its random flickering, Emma realised that she had miscounted, there were two unanswered wonderings plaguing her mind. The second being, _whose house was she in?_ Emma gathered that Hook had brought her here, but this was a remote house near a forest, possible in the middle of a forest. She doubted the owners of such a dwelling, would look too kindly on trespassing or breaking and entering.

Wait, _where was Hook?_ She pulled herself up into a sitting position, careful not to move her sore leg. She splayed her hands out behind her and rested her weight on them. Emma looked around curiously, she had been resting on a couch and was in some kind of living room. The wall of the fire place was complete bricked, but as she looked around Emma saw that the rest of the walls were made of wood. Hook was nowhere to be seen.

A large woollen blanket was smothering her, so she pulled it down fractionally, from where it was tickling her nose. Emma reached forward and tugged the bit of it that was covering her legs up, so she could see her wounded leg. Her jeans were crusted with dried mud and the right leg of the jeans had been ripped up at the hem. She saw now what Hook meant by his 'ripping her clothes' remark. Her leg had been bandaged, but she could see spots of blood, that had made their way to the outer layer of the bandaging. Emma brought the blanket back over it, even with the fire, the open air was laced with a chill.

Emma continued to scour the room for any clue to where she was and whose house this was. Other than a few nondescript decorative items, the room was barren from any personal effects. A flat screen was on the far wall to her right and behind her was a hallway. A step separated her carpeted room from the wooden floor boarded hall. That in one direction, obviously led to the rest of the house and the other direction led to a big blood red front door. There was no wall stopping her from seeing it, creating a very opened spaced feeling on the left side of the room. A wall however, was present on her right side, blocking her view to the rest of the house.

Just as she was admiring its dark rosy colour, the door burst inwards. An arctic breeze blew in, gusting flakes of snow into the house. Hook accompanied the temperature drop and hastily shut the door behind himself. White snow had settled on his head and the shoulders of his coat. He brushed it off the best he could, seemingly unaware Emma was watching him. She found it was fascinating to watch him, when he thought himself unobserved. His swagger was removed and he seemed almost sad. Her heart tugged painfully in her chest. He wistfully brought his fingers up to his lips, absently and likely unknowingly, started to ghost his fingers over them, staring at nonexistent space, lost in thought. Emma must have made a noise, because he jerked his head up and his hand fell to his side. His iridescent blue eyes met hers with a surprised expression.

"Your awake." He stated simply.

"Yes." She affirmed. He just stared at her, seeming to be unable to grasp his composure. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and looked up. All vulnerability gone instantly, something dark flickered just behind his eyes, making her wonder if she had imagined the whole thing. He matched her gaze with his characteristic smirk.

"You look worried darling. Thought I'd left you?" He walked into the living room around the couch and faced her, with his back to the fire. His smirk transformed into a grin as he not so discreetly glanced down at her chest. "You might want to cover up," He said slowly dragging his eyes back to hers. "Don't want me to get any ideas." Emma looked down to see that the blanket had sagged, bunching in her lap, revealing the absence of her top. She quickly brought the blanket back up. She was still wearing her leather jacket and wondered how her shirt had come off without her realising. She was certain Hook had everything to do with it. She gave him a death stare and spat.

"What did you do with my top?"

"I think what your really wondering princess, is how I got it off." Hook said with an eyebrow wriggle. Emma repeated herself, enunciating every word.

"_What did you do with my top?_" Hook still ignored her and continued.

"Personally, I was quite offended you didn't notice. Women seldom forget the momentous occasion of being undressed by me." He looked her over thoughtfully, cocking his head to the side. "But I suppose it's not your fault lass, you were too distracted by your broken limb." He paused something unreadable eclipsing the darkness flitting behind his eyes. "How is that?" He said stepping forward. She recoiled from his approach, as though burned by it. Her body tensed and she arched her neck at the pain from the swift movement. "Careful love." She met his eyes, he looked evidently worried.

"Stay away from me." She said, but she knew she didn't sound half as sure as she would have, if he hadn't been looking at her like that.

"Emma, if you don't let me look at it, I won't be able to bandage it and it's going to get infected."

"It's already bandaged." She said still dubious of his intentions.

"Still haven't learned to trust I see."

"_Should I trust you?_" She accused him angrily. He just met her with a hard stare and didn't reply, instead answered her previous question.

"Aye, it's true it is bandaged, but you have to dress the wound everyday to fight infection. Wouldn't want you to lose your lovely leg, would you now? Otherwise we're not getting back to Storybrooke anytime soon." That brought Emma's attention back to what she had originally been wondering, before Hook had distracted her.

"Why did you find me?" She asked. The worry slipped from his expression. The darkness returned slightly more prominent and it was because of its prominence, that Emma noticed something wrong with it. It was some kind of dark emotion, but rather than being directed at her, like she had first thought, like he was obviously trying to make it seem, it was aimed elsewhere. But the location of that elsewhere, she could not place. He answered her with a detached tone.

"You love your son, you're going to get back to him eventually, so you're a safe bet. The added fact that I don't know too much of your world, also attributed to swaying my mind. I'll stick with you till we reach Storybrooke, then we can gladly part ways. Together we have the best chance of getting back."

"Even with my broken leg? I thought I was just a big inconvenience to you?" Emma said referring to their last real conversation, before... before the kiss. He obviously realised to what she was referring, for he answered.

"What I think doesn't matter love. Right now you're my best option. So let's just focus on getting home." He started to walk out of the living room.

"Home?" She queried and she saw him flinch ever so slightly.

"Home..." He paused and proceeded to smile truly darkly. "_Home is where my revenge is._" He left the room, leaving her alone on the couch, with her swirling thoughts and incomprehensible emotions.

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Henry and Grace entered Granny's smiling and laughing. Henry breathed in the smell of Granny's. Appetizing food smells making his mouth water. He sat down with Grace in his usual booth and waited for Ruby to come and take their order. Only, she didn't. He set down the menu he had picked up and looked around. Normally Ruby was everywhere at once, jumping to take his and other customers orders. So where was she?

It was then he spied her. She was sitting on a stool in deep conversation with the person beside her. She blocked his view, so he couldn't quite make out who it was. If Grace looked, she could probably see.

"Grace, whose that next to Ruby?" Grace looked up from her own menu and turned around to look. She turned back to him and answered.

"I'm not sure, I don't know him." Henry gazed back to Ruby puzzled. As if she could feel his gaze on her, she spun around on her stool to face him, looking momentarily confused. She said something to her companion with a big smile and got up and started to head over. Then her companion turned his stool around and Henry realised who it was. Doctor Whale met his gaze with a friendly smile, Henry smiled back. He looked back at advancing Ruby, she looked so happy. It reminded him of how David and Mary-Margret often looked.

"Hi Henry!" She exclaimed. "How are you? What can I get you?" Henry told her he was fine. Grace and him ordered a hot cocoa and she breezed away to go get it. It was nice to see her so happy, she deserved it. It made him think of Emma and he wondered if she would ever have that. Grace smiled at him and he realised, that was the first time he had been able to think of Emma, without wanting to cry.

"How do you think we'll find Hook's ship? I heard Archie say it was enchanted to look invisible." Henry asked Grace, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Hmm, I suppose we could- ... _wait_. What if Hook's not at his ship?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I know you've read the book, so even you know Rumpelstiltskin is not the kindest person. If he got into a fight with Captain Hook, then he probably got hurt pretty bad. So he might be at the hospital." Ruby floated over and sat down their cocoas. Henry's with cinnamon on top and Grace's with honey drizzled over her own.

"Whose at the hospital?" Ruby asked, obviously hearing the end part of Grace's speech. Henry quickly spoke up, thinking something up on the spot.

"The outsider, you know the guy visiting Storybrooke. Me and Grace thought we'd say hi and see how he was going." Ruby clapped her hands together joyously.

"What a lovely idea. While you're there, can you say hi to Belle for me? I miss her." She said with a sad smile.

"What? Why is Belle at the hospital?" Henry knew Belle a little bit, from her working at the Diner and he had also seen her around town, hanging out with Mr Gold. He had come to realise they were dating. But when the foggy look passed over Ruby, Henry knew Gold had something to do with it. It wouldn't have been Emma and she was the only one other than Gold who people had forgotten. Henry felt angry towards Gold and his 'Gold kidnapped Emma' theory suddenly seemed a bit more likely.

"Umm.." Ruby said struggling to answer, but similar to David, her expression cleared and she suddenly answered easily. "She was having memory issues. She's forgotten all of us, she doesn't seem to remember anything. She woke up the other day and it's like her life had just began."

"That's terrible. I hope she remembers." Grace said passionately.

"Me too. Enjoy your hot cocoas." Ruby smiled excusing herself, sat back down next to Whale and they started to converse animatedly. Henry picked up his and Grace's conversation, from before Ruby had interrupted.

"I think the hospital is a good idea. It's closer than the marina, so we'll go there first and check it out." Grace nodded, and it was decided.

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Emma had been staring at the fire and successfully ignoring her thoughts, for a good couple of minutes, before Hook re-entered the room. Before he could distract her again, she posed a question she had meant to ask, as soon as she had seen him come in.

"What were you doing outside?" He had a bundle of bandages and cloth in his arms. He sat these down near her and began riffling through them.

"Well you see, last night I saw a flag outside and I wanted to see if I could make it out, now that it's light. But I couldn't see a bloody thing, it's a blizzard out there. I also wanted to check for damage to this cabin, because the um... _electrilicy?_... is out." Emma almost laughed at his mispronunciation, but she was still angry enough with him, to keep her expression in check.

"Electricity." She corrected. He seemed not to hear, pulling a T-shirt out of his pile and tossing it at her. It was a men's top. Hook, apparently seeing her vaguely reproachful look, said.

"I could only find men's garments, but if you don't want it..." He said smirking and reached to take it off her hands. She pulled it closer to her, halting his attempts to rid her of it.

"It's fine." Something about the shirt smelled familiar, but she couldn't place how. Hook had organised his medical supplies into piles, and was trying to catch her gaze. When he did he asked.

"May I?" Gesturing to her leg. Emma thought about it, as much as she was annoyed at him right now, which was a lot, the desire to not part with her leg outweighed that. She sighed in defeat.

"Go ahead." He carefully pulled the blanket back and set to work. He seemed quite distracted with treating her leg, so she draped the shirt over herself and wiggled out of her jacket. She quickly put the shirt on, before he had the opportunity to stare at her chest again. The shirt was oversized, but she didn't mind. She put her jacket on over it and watched Hook, as he began to slowly unwrap the bandages on her leg. He had it raised up on a pillow, so he didn't have to lift it every time he completed a circle in the unwinding.

She was fascinated by his movements, he was doing a good job with only one hand. She noticed some crusted blood and scabs on his knuckles and wondered how, and when, he had hurt his hand; but didn't ask. Emma drew her attention back to what he was doing, she noticed that the bandage fabric was roughly cut and somehow familiar.

"My shirt." She realised aloud. He paused, grinning up at her.

"I'd wondered when you'd realise princess, your rather slow today. Or was it just that you had concocted much more imaginative reasons, as to why I had taken your shirt and what I might had done with it?" He teased, Emma narrowed her eyes.

"Why didn't you just tell me that before? Then I wouldn't have imagined anything." His eyebrows shot up and she realised too late, what her words had implied. He smiled at her devilishly and she tried to take back her words. "I didn't- ... I mean-I-" He raised his hook petitioning for silence, she gladly abided.

"Lass, as much as I am enjoying sitting here, watching you get flustered. It is unfortunately distracting and I must concentrate, if I am to do this right." He said moving his hook to gesture at her leg. Emma nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was still angry at him and now she was also angry at herself. Even though the lurking darkness was momentarily gone from Hook, she knew it would be back. She tried to focus on that, so she could stay mad at him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He was treating her leg with such care and gentleness, it seemed too unlike him, too out of place from the cruelty she had recently observed. Although Emma repeated his reasoning to herself, that he was only doing this to get back to his revenge, that he only was staying because she was his best option, she seemed to start having trouble believing it. _That's only because you don't want to believe it, that your doubting it_, Emma reasoned. She decided that was likely the case and presently vanquished all of her doubt.

Hook had finished unwrapping the bandaging and Emma made the mistake of looking at the wound. She felt sick and quickly looked away. It was then Emma realised, that she didn't really know how she had hurt it.

"Did you see, or do you know what happened to my leg? It was all kind of a blur to me." The wound was stinging now in the open air and thinking about it, made her feel the rest of the pain that she had managed to ignore. She gritted her teeth as waves of it washed over her. Hook didn't answer straight away, instead he was too busy opening what looked like whisky. Emma briefly wondered what it was for, but remembered him previously using Rum, to disinfect her wounded hand, back on their Bean Stalk journey. She came to the assumption, that he was going to use it for the same purpose.

"Aye, you stepped on a hunter's trap. Ready?" He questioned, raising the bottle of alcohol above her wound. She nodded and he poured it. She winced at the stinging sensation. It was all very painful. She decided that when he was done bandaging, she would have to venture round the house and find some Aspirin.

When he was finished, she looked down at his handy work. He had taken her boot off. The bandaging extended around her foot and came up to just below her knee. She attempted to move it slightly and Hook spurred into action. He helped her move it, so she was in a sitting position. He had been silent during the rest of the bandaging process and she hadn't called him on it, lest he showered her with malice like he had the last time. He walked to the front door and came back with a cane.

"You can rest your weight on this, if you like." He said breaking the silence.

"Okay." She said taking it and attempted to stand up. Hook stood frozen, looking like he was contemplating, whether he should help her or not. He didn't have to though, for she managed to stand up alright. Hook picked up the bloody remnants of her shirt and walked out of the room, without saying another word. She momentarily looked after him puzzled, but stopped, instead focusing on walking. The cane helped, she found she could move at a reasonable pace, without having to put too much weight on her leg. Now to find some Aspirin.

Emma walked down the hall and was confronted by stairs straight ahead, but to her left, was another room. She decided to check out the room first. Upon entering, Emma saw that it was a kitchen/dining room area. The kitchen was on the other side of the room. Emma made her way over there and started poking in cupboards and drawers. She found lots of long lasting food, such as cans of soup. She decided to cook one, as she was very hungry. So she pulled a can out and put it on the bench top. It was then she noticed a phone, situated where the bench forked due to the corner of the room. She picked it up and attempted to dial, but when she hit call, the phone was dead. There was no dial tone. Emma concluded, that the storm must have damaged the phone lines, as well as the electricity.

She slammed it back down into its holder, out of frustration. Emma noticed some papers piled next to the phone and started to flick through them, hoping to discern who lived in this house. Emma spotted an old letter and quickly picked it up. It was addressed to 'Mr Scott', the name didn't ring any bells. She scanned through the unfamiliar address till something stood out _'NT, CANADA'_. Emma rocked back on her heals, she was in Canada. Emma was bewildered and found herself blinking several times, the letter still read the same. Emma sat it down and absorbed the information. Well at least she was still relatively close to Storybrooke, it wasn't like she was back in the Enchanted Forest. But she couldn't help but wonder, why had her magic sent them to_ Canada?_

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**A/N 2: Something tells me when you first started reading this, you didn't think Emma and Hook would get lost in some woods in Canada. But there is a reason, I promise darlings. :)**

**Okay, one thing. This is labelled Romance/Adventure, but when I first made this, I wasn't really sure what to label it. My reviewers often say there is a lot of angst in it. So I was wondering sweeties, whether I should change it to Romance/Angst. Or should I leave it how it is? Thoughts?**

**Big things are going to happen on the Henry side of this story and I'm going to try and get them done before the next episode.**

**All the Bae=**_**blank**_** theories are going to be tested in it, so I'm going to try hard to get to the point where I can tell you where this story stands with that, as soon as possible. **

**Thanks for sticking with me guys. A cool Captain Swan scene is coming real soon, it's one that I planned when I first started to think of ideas for this fic. Look forward to it my lovelies.**

**Oh and if any of you think Emma just let the kiss go, or forgot that she's upset with him about it, trust me, she's hasn't. She'll definitely bring it up later. ;)**

**Sorry for any errors, there are likely a lot... (I really should get a beta) :P**

**Review? **

**~ Auream Lucem**


	10. Chapter 10: Want

**A/N: OMG, that episode... anyway, another chapter sweeties. Aren't you the lucky bunch? I'm so sorry I took so long to update, I think this was my longest gap ever darlings, I had no internet, but it has returned. Yay! :D Sorry there is quite a bit of Henry's POV, I needed to catch up. Right now he is a day behind Hook and Emma, so by the end of this chapter, both sides of the story should be at the same time, hopefully. But never fear my lovelies, the Captain Swan scene in this chapter definitely makes up for it, well, at least I think so. ;) ~ Auream Lucem**

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The double doors burst inward, as Henry pressed his weight into them. Grace entered the hospital following closely behind him. On the way, they had decided that, for Ruby, they would visit Belle first, then hunt for Captain Hook. Henry still leading the way, marched courageously up the Receptionist.

Ever since Henry had discovered that there were residents in Storybrooke, that came from elsewhere, places _other _than the Enchanted forest, it had reignited his spark of intrigue, for discovering what the people of Storybrooke's other identities were. Though he did know a great deal of people, and the town was quite small, there were still many people walking round town, that Henry did not know. He had no idea who they were, let alone who they used to be. The Receptionist was one such of these people.

He used to make it a job, to find out who someone he met was, in the other land. Lately however, he had been distracted with all the dramas that had been happening. Mary-Margret and Emma getting lost in the Enchanted Forest, thinking Archie was dead, thinking _Regina killed_ Archie and now this whole 'everyone forgetting' thing; which had, like its predecessors, taken priority over his everyday thoughts. Henry greeted the Receptionist with a smile, she smiled back, her blue eyes shining kindly.

"How can I help you?"

"We're looking for Belle."

"To visit her, she's a friend of ours." Grace added helpfully. The Receptionist looked them over with a sad knowing smile.

"Room 408, East Wing." She said pointing down the hall. "You're quite lucky today, she's calm enough that they're allowing visitors. But she is still very unpredictable, so don't be surprised if your asked to leave." Henry and Grace both nodded solemnly in understanding. The Receptionist seemed satisfied by their response. "Good, have a lovely afternoon."

They began their walk down to the East Wing. The hall was quite empty besides the occasional nurse, that breezed through, clipboard in hand. Grace shivered and Henry glanced back at her. She looked slightly haunted, her eyes drew upwards to meet his.

"I don't like hospitals, they give me the creeps."

"Me neither." Henry said reaching for her hand, she let him take it and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. He felt her relax slightly and her lovely smile returned. Henry's mind resurfaced the memories, from the last time he had been in the hospital. He had been stuck in the sleeping curse and Emma had woke him up, breaking the curse placed on the town as well, in once full swoop. He had been so lost and alone, but to wake up to his Mom saying she loved him, becoming the saviour he always knew her to be, had probably made it his favorite day to date. Henry was quite lost in his thoughts and he was thankful Grace stopped walking, their connected hands bringing him to a stop, or he would have walked straight past the door. _Room 408_.

The door was closed, but not properly shut, the lock was not in place and noise permeated through the space, reaching his and Grace's ears. There were multiple voices, but he couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. There was a small window situated a little high up on the door. Henry stood on his tiptoes and attempted to see who was inside.

He first thought it might be a nurse and that's why he didn't just walk into the room. Henry was worried that he might interrupt them and then be not allowed to see Belle. Through the small window, he spied a man talking to Belle and the man, was _not_ clothed in the normal scrubs the nurses wore. He didn't recognise the man, but he could only see part of his face. He seemed to be having a heated discussion with Belle. Henry was going to call for a nurse, when he noticed something pass over Belle's face. The blatant look of confusion, that he now associated with someone attempting to remember something, that this new spell, or whatever it was, had altered. Henry's mind sparked with ideas, trying to work out what that meant. His final conclusion was that, this man knew something and Henry was determined to find out what. He looked at Grace, she was watching him intently and seemed to pick up on his train of thought.

"Here we go." She whispered, excitement gleaming in her eyes. Henry pushed the door open silently and entered the room. He performed this act successfully quietly, for he did not draw the man's attention, or Belle's for that matter. Grace shuffled in behind him, the sound of her movement matched his implied acceptable level of noise.

"-told me the other day!"

"And I'm telling you I don't remember."

"How can you forget telling me, about a man holding a _ball of fire_ _in his hand_?!"

"I don't know what your- _Oh_, hello?" Belle said looking past the man at Henry.

"Hi." Henry ventured, unsure whether she remembered him or not. The man just stepped back in shock at being overheard, mixed with subtle traces of anger from the heated discussion, he ran his hand over his face.

"Do I- _Did I know you?_" Henry felt his heart sink, he looked at Grace and she gave him a reassuring smile, he hadn't really expected her to remember him, but it still hurt.

"Yeah, I'm Henry and this is Grace," He said nodding to her. "We were kind of friends with you, Ruby suggested we should see you, on our way to see the outsider." The man who was now sitting in a chair, staring at the ground, looked up at this and cut off Belle, before she could reply.

"Outsider?" Henry looked at him, one side of his face was cut up pretty bad and he wondered what had happened to cause it.

"Yeah, I only heard bits in pieces, but I think someone new came to Storybrooke and they were in an accident or something... I not really sure what. But you know someone new in Storybrooke, can't be good." The man just gave him a puzzled look, Henry went to explain it but bit back his words; conscious of the fact the Belle, obviously no longer knew anything about magic, or the history of the inhabitants of Storybrooke.

"Outsider is a strange choice of word, for a visitor to your town." Henry was going to reply when Grace spoke up.

"_Your_ town?" The man looked away. "You're him aren't you?" This time it was Belle who interrupted.

"That's what he said to me, before he started going on about balls of fire. What's that about anyway? Were you trying to pull a joke on me _cause I can't remember_? None of this is funny! I-" Belle's voice had been rapidly rising in pitch and speed, and likely would have continued if she didn't have to choke back a sob. Henry took this as an opportunity to calm her.

"Belle, it's okay." He said reaching for her hand, a tear fell down her face. "It's okay."

"_Why does everyone keep calling me Belle?_" She whispered to him, staring at nothing.

"Because that's your name." He whispered back.

"Henry." He turned to look at Grace, she was looking out the door. "A Nurse is coming." Henry looked back at Belle.

"I think we might have to go now, I hope you feel better." Belle looked up at him, but seemed not to hear what he had said.

"Why don't I remember anything?" She asked tears streaming silently down her cheeks. It was a good question, everyone in the town's memories had been altered, but Belle seemed just like David's had been, when he had woken up from the coma. He wondered what made Belle so special as to forget everything. Henry was sure there was some link, he just wasn't seeing it, and maybe figuring out what why Belle remembered nothing, would help him figure out what had happened to everyone else.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out." Henry promised and it was the last thing he said before a nurse whisked them all out of Belle's room. Henry had almost forgotten about the man, he had been silent after Belle's outburst.

"Who are you?" Grace asked suddenly. The man looked at them.

"Greg." He answered with a thinking look, as if he was unsure if he should say more.

"Why did you come to Storybrooke?" Henry asked.

"Short answer: I was touring the eastern sea board, Long answer: ... well, that's a _really_ long story." He said scratching his head. He wore a slightly surprised expression, as though he was partially shocked he was still there talking to them.

"What did you mean when you said you saw a man with a ball of fire in his hand?" Henry persisted.

"It was nothing." Greg said and made to walk off, but Grace stepped in front of him blocking his way.

"It's okay. You can tell us, you can trust us." Greg turned back to Henry.

"But you're just children." Henry knew he didn't mean it in spite, but it still upset him, for another adult not to trust him, even if he was just a stranger. Henry noticed that Greg looked unsure of what he was saying. He obviously didn't know everything, but neither did Grace or himself, and Henry had a feeling, that if they worked together, it would beneficial for all of them.

"Just because we're children, doesn't mean you can't trust us. We-we know about magic." Something that looked like feverish hope sparked in his eyes, but then, just as suddenly died back a little.

"What do you mean magic?" Greg asked in a hesitant tone.

"HENRY!" Regina's voice boomed around a corner and she swiftly appeared, smiling widely. "There you are. The Receptionist told me you were visiting Belle. But you should have told me, I got a little worried when you didn't come home. Whose this?" Regina said seeming to just notice Greg.

"I'm Greg." He said introducing himself and shaking her hand. "I'm here visiting your lovely town, but I had car crash on the way entering."

"Yes, I heard about that. I'm Regina Mills, and what passes for the Mayor around here."

"Well lucky me, I seem to be meeting all the important people of this town. First the Sheriff, now the Mayor. Well, the first one wasn't exactly an accident, she had to take my statement." Regina gave him a confused look. _Here we go_, thought Henry.

"I'm afraid you must be mistaken, we don't have a Sheriff. We are in between electing one. It must have been David, our deputy." Greg glanced at Henry with a confounded look. Henry mouthed to him _'I'll explain later'_. Regina looked at him and he quickly smiled. It was not a fake smile however, Greg remembered Emma. Someone other than him knew of his mother's existence! Henry felt like he was floating.

"Oh, well it must have been the pain killers, strong stuff..." Greg said trailing off.

"Yes, well, me and Henry better be off." She said reaching for Henry's hand.

"Mom, can I see Greg tomorrow?" Henry asked Regina. She sighed.

"I think that's a nice idea, but I don't like the thought of you strolling the hospital by yourself. I could come with you?" She suggested. Grace who had been silently observing, stepped forward.

"He's not alone, I'm with him and I could go again with him tomorrow..." She was blushing, but Henry couldn't figure out why. "My Papa doesn't mind." She hastily added. Regina looked slightly shocked, she obviously hadn't noticed that Grace had been standing there.

"Well I suppose that would be okay, but you must come home now Henry, it's a school night. You really should be getting home too Grace, we can drop you off if you like?" Grace nodded happily.

"Well, I'm going to head back to my room now." Greg stated.

"See you tomorrow." Henry chirped, practically bouncing up and down in anticipation.

"Bye." He said walking off. Henry turned to Grace and finally was able to match the vibrancy of her smile. Greg knew of Emma, this was a much better lead than Captain Hook. Although he would still like to know what happened to the Captain, it could wait until after he found out what Greg knew. Henry was full of hope and excitement, finally things had started to look up. He was thankful to Grace for suggesting the hospital, otherwise he might never have met Greg. Henry now knew two thing for sure, he wasn't the only one who remembered Emma, and he wasn't going to get much sleep tonight.

* * *

After the tenth read through, the letter still read the same. Emma stood staring at it as if it had contained some hidden explanation. She only looked up when she heard Hook call.

"Emma! Are you alright?" He sounded desperate, worried. But whatever she was thinking evaporated, the moment he entered the room. Drops of water were slowly sliding down his shirtless form. He wore nothing, save a dark brown towel wrapped around his waist and his partially put on prosthetic apparatus. The towel was slightly low hanging, in a way that made it hard for her to fight the blush, that threatened to creep up her cheeks. His body was sculpted with hard but smooth muscle. She noticed faint scars decorating parts of his body, telling tales of adventures past. His curling chest hair, made him look slightly roguish and it called to her, to run her hands through it. The scruff on his face was undeniably sexy, his beautifully handsome blue eyes stared straight at her, he had such long lashes. His ink black hair was dishevelled in its soaked state. A tendril of it fell near his eyes, which he brushed away with a swift strong movement. "I heard you scream lass."

Had she screamed? She wasn't sure. The more she thought back on it, the more the memory of a scream escaping her lips, when she had read the letter, seemed to surface. _Lips_. She stared at his, they were rosy, full and slightly parted. Her mind reminded her of the feeling of them being pressed on hers. Some part of her brain realised Killian was waiting for an explanation, but all she could manage was. "Oh."

She was drowning in the sight of him and felt herself taking a small step forward. He glanced at her lips and back up to her eyes. Emma was in pain, she needed to touch him, to run her hands through his wet hair. Killian was just a few feet from her, and a magnetic pull towards him was nearly seducing her to close the distance. She wanted him, God she wanted him badly. She took another small step forward, when the dark emotion surfaced swimming in his eyes. She knew it wasn't directed at her, but it was enough to bring her out of her trance like state. She stepped back.

_Killian?_ What had she been thinking? _Hook!_ Hook, hook, hook, hook, hook, she mentally shouted. He was a pirate. He didn't like her, he would just use her, and hurt her, and leave her, and hurt her some more. He was only staying because she was his best option. He was beautiful, she could accept that much, but that didn't mean she liked him. She hadn't been thinking and that was the problem. She had been single too long, she tried to reason, she had just momentarily lost control of herself. Another accursed opinion made itself known, there was losing control and then there was _that_. She had nearly jumped him, just because he wasn't properly clothed. _Pull yourself together_, she ordered. Emma knew she had denied anything she felt towards Hook, but she had no idea to the extent of her inhibitions, or how easy it was for them to dissipate.

What was wrong with her? Why did he make it so easy for her to lose control, to forget he was a pirate and anything else stopping them from being together... - _being together? _What the hell was going on in her mind, in the places where the thoughts dwelled that she choose to ignore? If she was going to get control of herself, she was going to have to sort through them, which the prospect of did not seem at all appealing.

Hook was an ubiquitous thought in her mind and as much as she tried, she couldn't banish all traces of him. Instead she decided to try a different approach. Hook would always be Hook, and nothing would ever change that. All he cared about was his revenge, all he ever would care about was his revenge. Nothing could save him, not even if she wanted something to. Not even if a tiny part of herself, wanted it to be her to save him. He would never let go of his revenge and even if he got close to, or did complete it, she knew without a doubt that he wouldn't make it out alive. She could see that he hated himself, and as much as it scared her, she knew that even if he survived, he wouldn't want to. He was going kill himself, to complete his revenge for Milah, and he would die for her, one way or another. Because he obviously loved Milah, only Milah and only ever Milah. He couldn't love her, so she wouldn't let herself fall for him.

"Emma? Are you even listening?" Emma was dragged out of her thoughts by Hook's irritated voice, he was looking at her slightly angrily.

"No." Emma said stepping back, somehow he had made his way closer to her. He seemed to notice too and stepped back himself.

"I said the water works fine princess. I'm finished now, so you might want to clean yourself up. The bathing room is upstairs." He was still speaking angrily as though she had annoyed him, but how she wasn't sure. Well he's Captain Hook, she reminded herself simply, he doesn't need a reason to be mad, he's not a nice person; but even her thoughts didn't sound certain. She wouldn't let herself dwell on it however, she brushed past him in a huff, well, as fast as she could on her walking stick, and made her way up the stairs. Walking up the stairs was slightly more painful than walking on flat ground, but she didn't let it deter her and continued briskly upwards.

* * *

The day seemed to take forever and speed forward at the same time. Henry had rushed through breakfast. He had practically bounced on his seat all the way to school, and then all the way through school. Mary-Margret had smiled at him happily during class, taking his mood change as a sign that whatever was troubling was over. That was not the case though, he was still greatly troubled by his dilemma, but it was the fact that the feeling of hopelessness was gone, that had changed his mood. He was making progress into fixing whatever had occurred and that was enough to keep his spirits high. Along with Grace there to support him, he felt almost normal.

When school was over, Grace and him sped towards the hospital, not bothering to stop at Granny's for cocoa. It was Friday night, so Henry and Grace had an added half hour that they were allowed out for and they weren't planning to waste it. This time Grace took the lead and talked to the Receptionist.

"We'd like to visit Greg." The Receptionist looked mildly surprised, but didn't comment. She looked something up on her computer.

"He'll probably be in the recreation room, check the map." She said pointing to the map on the wall. "It can be a little tricky to find." Grace nodded and walked over to the map.

"Thanks." Henry said to the Receptionist.

"Anytime." She said smiling. Henry walked over and stood next to Grace.

"Found it?" He asked not seeing it, in the mess of rooms and symbols, that was the map.

"There." She said pointing. "It's on the West Wing."

"Let's go." Henry said excited and they both ran across the Reception area, to start heading down the West side of the hospital.

"No running!" The Receptionist shouted, but with a kind tone. Henry and Grace slowed their pace to a fast walk. They raced down the hall, closing in on their destination with smiles spread across their faces.

* * *

**A/N 2: So they are both on the same day now, I hope it lasts. :)**

**Oh, and just because Henry thinks something, doesn't mean its right, he's only 10 and he might make mistakes. That's just something to bear in mind. **

**One of Greg's motivations is desperation, that's why he is kind of willing to confide in/trust Henry and Grace. There is a reason he is like that darlings, and I promise to go into that.**

**I might show your Killian's POV for the scene in this chapter, in the next chapter darlings, maybe.**

**Oh, I'm pretty sure the next chapter (if not the one after) has the scene I told you about a couple of chapters ago sweeties. It's going to be awesome. :D**

**Sorry for any and all errors, you know me, I couldn't wait. :P**

**Review? **

**~ Auream Lucem**


	11. Chapter 11: Seeing

**A/N: Hey darlings. This chapter is kind of long, I'm sorry I just needed to get everything out. I love all the support I keep getting, to all my new followers/favorite-rs, you rock, and to all my old followers/favorite-rs, thanks for sticking with me this far. To me, this chapter feels like the middle of the story sweeties (I think :S). From here on, stuff will get a bit more intense and I apologize in advance for what's coming up. Just remember I love Captain Swan and I am a sucker for happy endings, so hopefully we'll get to one eventually. Listen to me, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. :P Killian POV in this chapter. :D I had been purposely not doing any for the past couple, because I wanted you guys guessing what he was thinking. I'm giving this chapter a slight tissue warning, I think it's a little sad, but then again I'm never really good at guessing how y'all will react to things. Okay, well I hope you like this chapter my lovelies. :) ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

"Greg." Henry said alerting the man sitting on a couch of his presence. He looked around and got up awkwardly. Henry looked around the recreation room. It was small. On one side of the room there was a couch and two arm chairs that created a 'U' shape around a television, on the other side, was a medium sized tabled, topped with puzzles and books. The room was empty besides Greg.

"Hey." Greg replied his eyes flicking between Grace and Henry.

"Hi." Grace chirped, then she went and sat down on the couch. Greg backed up slightly and took up one of the armchairs, allowing Henry to sit next to Grace. Henry noticed that the TV was playing something. Upon closer inspection, Henry realised it was one of the _Star Wars _movies. Greg noticing Henry's stare, picked up the remote and promptly turned it off. Then they kind of all just sat there awkwardly, so Henry decided to get the ball rolling.

"You said you saw a man holding a ball of fire?" Greg looked at Henry, uncertainty plastered across his features.

"Yeah..." He admitted and started playing with his hands.

"Could you tell us all of what you saw?" Grace asked. Greg swallowed and seemed to decide on something.

"Look, I know you said you know about magic. But this is serious stuff, it's dangerous. I'm not sure if it's a good idea for you two to get involved." Greg said plainly. Henry found he couldn't hold back his coming words.

"_Get_ _involved?_ I'm already involved. You know the Sherriff you talked to Regina about? She's my mom and no one remembers her because of some weird magic. I just want her to come back, and people to remember her, and everything to go back to normal." Henry said passionately, some of his frustration leaking into his words.

"Whoa, hold on. I thought Regina was your mother?"

"She's his adoptive mother, Emma is his biological one." Grace said.

"Emma's the Sheriff." Henry added, to try and clear up any extra confusion. Greg was looking at him sadly.

"I'm sorry. Magic is a truly awful thing." He said looking distant. Greg sighed and continued. "Alright, what do you want to know?"

* * *

Killian just stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had found a bathroom and had decided a quick bathe was in order, or a shower, as it was called in this realm. But upon entering, he found himself lost in his thoughts.

It had been yet another night without his haunting dream of Milah. A naive part of him suggested it might just be a coincidence that he hadn't had the dream, the two times he had slept near Emma, but he had long ago learnt not to listen to that voice. It most definitely had everything to do with her.

Killian began his shower. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Spending so much time with Emma, was not good for him, that much he knew. For when he was in her presence he felt calm, at ease, even when they were arguing. The more he was with her, the more he found himself need her. He couldn't need her, he couldn't become dependent on her to be happy. His ever cruel mind, dredged up a thought. _Happy? _Since when had happiness and him coincided? Yet his mind continued in its sport of betrayal and reminded him that, being around Emma made him happy. But the happiness was undeserved and he was mad at himself for feeling such an emotion.

He found he couldn't help himself though. She made him feel. The mere thought of her, hit him with such strong emotions, that ran like wildfire inside him and sunk right down into his bones. He had once been numb to the world, caring for someone had seemed like an impossibility. He would have still believed it impossible too, if it were not for the things he felt right now.

Killian knew he wasn't good for her. He was trying to stay distant, seem uncaring, but the longer he spent with her, the harder it got. Just trying to ignore her was painful. But trying to be mean to her, the pain of trying to do that, was becoming almost physically tangible. The solution was simple. Leaving would put an end to his unneeded suffering, but he couldn't just leave though, because she needed him. He relished in that fact, for her to need him. Even if it was only to look after her by bandaging her leg, and to aid her in returning to Storybrooke. He hadn't been needed by someone, he hadn't been needed at all in so long...

Although even if she didn't need him, he wasn't sure whether he would be able to make himself leave. But he would have to when the time came. He would have to, for her. Another thing he found increasingly difficult, was to hide the effect she had on him, and he knew he had already slipped up more than once. Letting her sleep in his arms, the kiss... Two points she hadn't made mention to, he wondered if she would ever bring them up. But she shouldn't, she shouldn't be thinking about those things, she shouldn't be thinking about him. He needed to try harder than ever, not to give her any reason to think about him. That was when he heard Emma's voice release a shrill shriek.

Killian jumped out of the shower, hurriedly turning the water off. He threw a towel on and started to slide into his prosthetic apparatus. He was travelling down the hallway faster than his mind could register. Thoughts swirling in a mess through his head. What if the owners had found Emma in the house? What if they had hurt her? He couldn't lose her, he had just saved her. His heart was beating madly as he entered the kitchen and saw her, blurting out desperately.

"Emma! Are you alright?"

She turned to look at him. Killian breathed a small sigh of relief, to see that she seemed physically unharmed. He looked around for the source of her scream, but could not determine the reason from their surroundings.

"I heard you scream lass." Killian had a feeling intensifying inside him, the feeling of stupidity. Why did his mind rapidly jump to such conclusions? Of course she was fine, she had obviously just gotten a small fright from something. But it seemed that he tended to lose all control of himself, when the fear of losing her stabbed at his heart.

It was then Killian noted that something was off. She hadn't responded, normally she was quick to defend any showing of weakness, such as a scream, but she remained silent. She was staring at him, her eyes darkened with a foreign emotion. No, he realised, she had looked at him like this in subtle moments before. When he had bandaged her hand, was probably the first time he had seen something that resembled desire in her eyes. That's what it was, _desire_, her eyes were trailing over his body. He felt his skin burn under the path of her gaze, but it was a pleasant burning. Her eyes flickered to his lips and he yearned for her to close the distance. He was managing to stay frozen, but he had no clue how long that would last, with her looking at him like this.

"Oh." She replied to his earlier question, but all he could pay attention to was her mouth moving to shape the word. He dragged his gaze back to her eyes, which were now staring deep into his. She was already so close to him, too close. She stepped forward and he felt like a wave nearing the shore; ready to break and crash all over her beauteous form. Her hazel eyes examined him, the perfect combination of blue, green and brown. Staring at him clear of any hateful emotion... -_what the bloody hell was wrong with him?!_

This seemed to be becoming a common question, as was the wave of self hatred that followed. He had wanted to make her _hate_ him, not _want_ him. She stepped back. Well good, he thought adamantly, there's a start. Killian tried to think of something to say, anything to repair the situation at hand. To make her hate him again. He had thought he had been doing a pretty good job of it, up until now.

"Now, now my dear. Do you even remember your son's name? For the way you've been staring at me, it seems that thoughts of getting back to your son, are not the most prominent on your mind." Killian knew that was going to hurt her. She loved her son fiercely and indefinitely, that much he had seen by her will to return to Storybrooke, when they had first met in the Enchanted Forest. Cora voice echoed eerily in his mind, reminding him that she had said a similar thing to him once, but he pushed it aside. Surprisingly, Emma didn't answer though. She had a slightly annoyed look on her face, but it seemed to be directed internally. She was still lost in her thoughts and he doubted she had heard him. How was he supposed to make the bloody woman hate him, if she wasn't even listening to him.

"Emma? Are you even listening?" He demanded.

"No." She didn't even bother to deny it. He had to fight a smirk at the comical simpleness of her answer. Emma stepped back on saying this and he copied her. How had he gotten so close to her again? He cursed internally, at his body's inability to follow his mind's instructions. Killian realised she was waiting for him to repeat what he had said, but found he couldn't, so instead he replied.

"I said the water works fine princess. I'm finished now, so you might want to clean yourself up. The bathing room is upstairs." Killian wasn't really paying attention to his words, he was too caught up in his thoughts. He was angry at himself. What had he decided right before she had screamed? That he wouldn't give her any other reason to think of him. _Well stellar job there_, he sarcastically congratulated himself. Astonishingly this comment seemed to affront her in some manner, she looked at him angrily and huffed past him, without saying anymore.

Maybe there was still hope. Maybe she could still come to hate him. He had to make him hate her. He had saved her before and now he had to save her again. He had to save her from himself. An adversary that was proving increasingly difficult to fight. Especially now that he could no longer deny that she wanted him too. He had seen it. Even if it was not at the same level that he wanted her, that he yearned for her, it was still something. That something filled him with hopeful fantasies; which then crushed him with guilt, at the thought of allowing her to be close to the filth that was him. The guilt drove his self loathing and his determination to not let her fall for him, they way he had her.

Him caring for her was dangerous. In his lifetime he had accumulated his share of enemies. The thought of them exploiting her as his weakness, the thought of her suffering because of him, was unbearable. He had cared for Milah and she had died. Everyone he had ever let into his heart had died. It was because he cared for her, that he wished he didn't care for her. He wanted her to be safe and the only way for that to happen, was if he wasn't part of her life. So people couldn't see how much she meant to him and use that against him; like he had with Belle. _The Crocodile_. Probably the worst of his enemies and the nearest. He had magic and Killian could not imagine the horrors that he could do to Emma, for what he had done to his Belle. Killian shivered, he would make her hate him, he would. She had said herself that she was done with him, he had almost believed her at the time. Now however, he wasn't so sure. She seemed about as done with him, as he was with her. So all he needed now, was to make it true.

Killian made his way upstairs. Emma was already in the bathroom. He grabbed some clothes and walked back down the stairs. His clothes were covered in mud, he would have to wash them if he wished to wear them again. Clean clothes were a welcome change, even if they were unfortunately dissimilar to his usual attire. He made his way into the living room, which thanks to his fire, was by far the warmest room. Once he had gotten his jeans on, he sat on one of the couches and got distracted by the flames.

He knew he had decided, that he had to make Emma hate him. But that was easier said than done. He could never think straight when he was around her, let alone have any control over his emotions. Killian was tired, tired from the constant effort to make her dislike him. Even though he hadn't really done much to that effect. He felt weary and defeated. This was killing him. She was the one person who ever treated him as just a person. Not as someone who should be feared, because of the whole pirate thing. Or like those who didn't fear him, but only wanted him for his skills as pirate. Or like those who didn't know him, and thought him just a handsome stranger, that they couldn't have a proper conversation with.

After initial introductions, Emma was the one person who had just been. Had just stayed herself and treated him as though he was normal. He respected her greatly for that. He figured that was why he had been able to talk about Milah with her, without his boiling rage or growing mad at her for bringing it up. Even if he had only spoken a few words, he had revealed a side of himself few others saw. He hadn't allowed himself to be that open with anyone, after it had happened. And she had seemed to feel the same way, admitting to him with equal sadness about how she had been in love once.

It seemed that conversations with her never ended well. Maybe it was best to ignore her. To speak as little as possible, allowing for less mistakes. Killian slid his arms into the shirt he had picked. He began to button it up and decided that saying as little as he could, acting detached, was undoubtedly the best policy.

* * *

The top of the stairs was a few steps away. Emma pushed onwards ignoring the pain, that moving this quickly was causing. She needed a shower, it had been days since her last one. Actually, her last shower had been before she had left to go with Gold. She had been home with her parents and Henry.

Oh God, she thought, they were probably worried sick. Hadn't she promised to call? Emma reached the top of the stairs breathing hard. She tried to calm herself with the reassurance that there was nothing she could do, she would simply have to wait. But wait for what? Her leg to get better? Then what, how was she going to get back home from Canada? She didn't have any money for a plane ticket. Her purse was left in her car. None of them could come and get her, they would just lose their memories. Henry was the only one who could leave, but him travelling cross-country to come and rescue her, was not safe. So she was trapped here. Maybe there was some money lying around the house, she would have to check it out. The idea seemed unlikely though, judging by the state of the place, no one had lived here in a while.

Emma came to a door, she pulled it open and looked inside. It was the master bedroom. A huge double bed with a oak headboard, sat in the middle of the room. She had the sudden urge to jump onto it and lay there till she fell asleep. It was covered in blankets and looked extremely comfortable. She was still quite tired from the ordeal of being trapped in a forest. She hadn't had a good night's sleep since- _since_ she had slept in Hook's arms...

Emma shut the door, fighting thoughts of him that were creeping back to her, as they always did, when she was trying not to think about him. She needed to have a shower, then she could worry about resting. Suddenly realisation dawned on her, something she hadn't properly noticed. Hook's body had been covered in bruises. Ugly purple flowers dotted about his skin. As to why she didn't realised it straight away, Emma figured it was due to her brain turning into a puddle at the sight of him. A fact she wasn't particularly proud of, but she _had_ managed to stay strong, and she supposed that was something.

Surprisingly the bruises hadn't been all massive splodges, like she would have expected from the car accident. There had been a couple of those, but there were mainly small marks, like he had been beaten with something over and over. Emma wondered who had done that to him and suddenly felt a strange emotion swirl within herself. If she didn't know better, she would have said it was something along the lines of protectiveness; but she did know better, so it wasn't. Hook wasn't nice, he probably deserved it. Nevertheless it still made her wonder what he had done to get beaten. Emma brushed the thought aside, _that_ wasn't her concern, _he_ wasn't her concern.

Emma tried the next door. She smiled at the sight that greeted her. Emma began to survey the bathroom before her. The was a sink, a toilet and a hybrid bath-shower. Emma shut the door behind herself. She looked at everything in awe, she hadn't been this happy to see normal bathroom things, since she made it back from the Enchanted Forest. There was a small cupboard above the sink. Emma opened it and spied a bottle of Aspirin. She sighed happily and took some painkillers. She was slowly made aware of the effects, as the sharpness of her pain receded back to a numb glow. Emma got to work with the rest of her bathroom chores.

But when she made it to having a shower, she wasn't quite sure how to proceed. She had a bandage over part of her leg, which she couldn't get wet. There was also the problem that, she couldn't take her jeans of without disturbing the bandages and causing herself a great deal of pain. Emma sighed for the second time, this time in frustration. Emma sat down carefully on the edge of the bathtub. Cutting her loses, she ripped off her muddy jeans, her bare legs pebbling in the cold air. Emma managed to coax the rest of her clothes, off with minimal pain and difficulty. She turned the water on and had a gratifying shower, successfully keeping her bandages dry.

When she was finished and reasonably dried, she began to put her clothes back on. She slid the massive T-shirt over her head and gave her shredded jeans a disdainful glance. The T-shirt reached half way down her thigh. Although it was freezing, she didn't have much else of a choice, as to what to wear for pants. For now, it was just going to have to do.

Her hair was still a little wet and she could feel some of the water soaking into the back of the top. She didn't particularly mind however, the sensation of being clean for the first time in days took precedence. Emma grabbed the Aspirin and stashed it in her bra, she really needed two hands to walk. She grabbed the cane and made her way out of the bathroom.

Emma went back into the master bedroom, in the hope of finding some pants. She was disappointed to find all cupboards and draws empty of clothes. She banged her head on one of the walls lightly, out of frustration. She was going to have to go and talk to Hook, and ask him where he found the clothes. She could wander more of the house until she found some, but just asking him would make it so much easier. She was a grown up, she could face him. Why couldn't she? It's not like she had done something stupid. Emma made her way back done the stairs, going down was much less painful than walking up, but that was probably due to the painkillers.

She entered the living room. To find him sitting on one of the couches in jeans, slowly buttoning up a navy shirt. A gasp of shock escaped her lips, he looked so different, so foreign in these strange clothes. But he still looked good. He looked up at her noise and his cheeks flushed at the sight of her. She looked away, suddenly feeling self conscious and tugged the T-shirt downwards ever so slightly. When she looked back at him the blush was gone and he was looking at her almost lazily.

"I couldn't find any pants." She explained, feeling slightly annoyed at her predicament. He just smirked and picked up the clothes he had been wearing prior, beginning to fold them and put them in a pile on the couch. She considered questioning him about his bruises, but decided against it; on the grounds that, she didn't want _him_ thinking that _she_ was thinking about him shirtless- _which she wasn't_.

"Guest bedroom." He answered, obviously not planning to say anymore. It was clear that he expected her to go, but Emma found herself unwilling to leave. She pulled the Aspirin out of her bra and set it down next to some candles and matches, on a small coffee table, that was beside one of the couches.

"Why do you always wear that?" She asked watching him fold the last piece of his leather outfit. He sat it down on the pile beside him, with the rest of his leather clothes. He began absently playing with the corner of his overcoat.

"Because I'm a pirate darling, you'll find it is quite typical attire." He brought his hands away from his old clothes and brushed his partly dry hair out of his eyes. Hook was still smirking, but it slowly faded and he couldn't hold her gaze, instead his eyes gravitated to the fire. "Milah liked them." He said starting to play with the leather again, continuing not to look at her.

"I think you look better without them." She saw him raise an eyebrow, but he still wouldn't look at her. She blushed remembering their earlier shirtless encounter."That's not what I meant, it's just... why do you have to constantly haunt yourself with her?" She knew that was crossing a line, but the words had just fallen out of her mouth. She tensed, expecting him to grow mad, but he stayed silent; projecting the same feeling of loss and grief, that he had the very first time she had asked him about her.

"_I deserve to be haunted..._" He whispered very quietly, Emma had to move forward to catch his words. She doubted he had meant to say them out loud. He looked up then, and rose to his feet. "I'm going for a walk." He announced, stomping toward the door.

"You can't go for a walk outside, it's snowing." He didn't reply, instead swung the door open, welcoming in swirls of frigid snow. He breathed in deeply. "Hook wait!" He didn't, he walked out the crimson door, slamming it shut behind him.

* * *

"Just what you saw, with the whole 'ball of fire' thing." Henry clarified. Greg looked between them and sighed. He knitted his fingers together and brought them around the back of his head, resting them on his neck.

"Okay. Well you see, I was driving around the eastern seaboard looking for something,-" Greg paused to take a breath and Grace interrupted.

"-looking for what?" She interjected innocently. Greg didn't seem to mind, he just gave her a half smile and replied.

"Doesn't matter, it's not important. Anyway, so I came across this road that wasn't in my map. So I decided to check it out." Greg reached for a bottle of water, that was sitting on a table next to him. He took a generous sip and then continued. "I was tired, I probably shouldn't have been driving so late at night, but, I know what I saw. The moon was full and the road was lit up, as clear as if it were day." Greg paused again. He leaned forward and dropped the volume of his voice, in a manner to counteract being overheard. "There was a man dressed in all black, standing in the middle of the road. He had a hook in place of one of his hands. There was another older man with his back to me, kneeling over the body of that Belle girl. The hooked man was looking angrily at the other man, and then he said something that I couldn't make out. I was going to honk, to get them to move out of the way; but then a ball of fire appeared in the older man's hand, it kind of sent me into a state of shock and I was frozen, unable to move. He moved out the way I think, but the last thing I remember, was hitting the hooked man, seeing his body go up and roll over the top of my car. Then I woke up in here, at the hospital." Greg was breathing hard, having gotten worked up in the retelling of his story. Henry turned to Grace.

"So that's what Mary-Margret meant. She said Rumpelstiltskin and Captain Hook had a fight and someone got hurt. I didn't realise that she meant Greg, and that that was the accident he had been in." Greg didn't seem to mind being momentarily cut out of the conversation, he just sat waiting patiently for them to be done.

"Hmmm," Grace pondered. "Captain Hook _must_ be here in the hospital, if he was hit by the car."

"I'm sorry, did you both say Captain Hook? I thought I had misheard. You don't mean, Captain Hook as in... _Peter Pan?_ ... _Do you?_" Henry was unsure how to answer Greg's question. He looked to Grace to see what she thought, she nodded, silently approving.

"It's complicated. But in a way... yes, he is that Captain Hook." Henry looked at Greg wondering how he would take it. Greg looked kind of flabbergasted, but other than that he looked as though he believed him. Henry wondered what had happened to Greg, to make him so easily accepting of this stuff. In his experience, adults rarely would let themselves believe in things to do with magic. Even if it was staring at them in the face and was the only answer that made sense. The fact the Greg seemed able to just go with this, intrigued him.

"Okay well, Captain Hook isn't here. At least not any more. I asked the nurses about the man I had hit and whether he was okay. At first they reassured me he was, but then it got weird. When I asked again later, they didn't know who I was talking about. I walked around the hospital but couldn't find any trace of him. The same thing happened with Belle. She had first told me what she had seen, which basically matched up to what I had seen myself. But then I went to her later and she couldn't remember either of the men being there. Well, you saw part of that conversation. What is up with that? Why are people's memories being changed in this town? You said people didn't remember your mother either?"

"Yeah, my mom and Rumpelstiltskin left town to go find his son. But a couple hours after they had left, I woke up to a town filled with people who didn't remember either of them. Apparently also Captain Hook, has been forgotten. I have no idea why. A small part of me thought I might have been crazy, but if you remember them too, then the only logical explanation is, that there was some kind of magic involved. All I want to do is fix it and make everything go back to normal. We thought Captain Hook might have had something to do with it, but now I'm not as sure. My next theory was that it was Rumpelstiltskin, since he can use magic."

"Rumpelstiltskin?" Greg questioned the foreign name. "Why does that name sound familiar?" It was Grace that answered.

"That would be because he's from a fairytale, you know the man that no one could guess the name of?" Greg looked puzzled, but it slowly cleared and he began to nod his head slowly.

"Yeah, I know that story. But, _two_ people from stories, are actually real and live in the same town, that isn't on any map? There's more to this isn't there?" Henry sighed, deciding it was best he told Greg everything. He wanted the man's help, he wanted him to trust them, so Henry would have to trust him back.

"Storybrooke is a special town. Everyone here, is actually from another land, but we know them in this world from stories and fairytales. The stories of them here, aren't exactly right though. I have a book at home, that has their stories and explains why they're here. Basically..." Henry gave Greg a brief rundown of everything that had happened. Trying to keep it as short as possible. He explained that Rumpelstiltskin had used Regina to put a curse on their world that had sent them here, and how his mother, who was the daughter of Snow white and Prince Charming, was supposed to break it. How she had, and how everyone had remembered. Henry left out a few unimportant details but said enough for Greg to get the gist of it, he then explained who was who in the town. When he was done, Greg was silent for a while. But eventually he broke his silence.

"I want to help you guys fix what magic has ruined." He said. "I'll help you guys, but you have to help me. You said Rumpelstiltskin brought magic back to this town, I want you to help me get rid of it. You know that it's bad, from what you've told me of Regina, you know it corrupts the good in people. It'll be doing everyone in the town a favour if we get rid of it."

"He's right Henry." Grace said. "If we get rid of magic, then if Cora is as bad as you said she was, then she won't be a threat anymore, because she won't have magic. You'll be able to get your mom back, without endangering the town!" Grace exclaimed excitedly. She was right, Henry realised. He turned to face Greg.

"It's a deal." He said and shook the man's outstretched hand. Although he had no idea how this feat would be accomplished, Greg seemed determined, so he knew they would find a way.

"Good. I'm getting released early tomorrow morning. It's a Saturday, so you don't have school, we could start working out how to fix this then." Henry and Grace both agreed on the idea. It was decided that they would meet in the town square on the following day. It was then Henry realised that he had lost track of time. It was late, Regina was expecting him home in ten minutes.

"Grace we have go." He said pointing to the clock.

"Oh." She said, evidently not realising how late it was either.

"Thanks for telling us what you saw. Thanks for trusting us." Henry said shyly.

"You're welcome," Greg replied smiling warmly. "Thanks for trusting me and telling me everything. You're good kids."

"See you tomorrow." Grace chimed.

"Yeah." Henry affirmed.

"Bye." Greg said still smiling. Henry and Grace left. They practically skipped out of the hospital. After their meeting with Greg they were in high spirits. Now that they had an adult on their side, who also remembered, Henry felt there was no way that they could fail. He was especially happy, that he had found a way to solve the Cora problem, now there was nothing stopping everything from going back to normal. For Henry, it really looked like things were going to work out.

* * *

For a while, Emma just stayed where she was standing, staring at the door. She was open mouthed. What was that? Hook had literally walked out into a blizzard, because he didn't want to talk to her. Part of her wondered if she had called out Killian, whether he would have stopped. Part of her knew he would have. Another part of her persisted in telling her it didn't matter.

Why had she asked about Milah? Well, she reasoned, it wasn't her fault, _he_ had been the one to bring her up initially. But she still should have just let it drop. Seeing Hook vulnerable, was a strange and equally sad thing. She didn't need to feel sad for him, that wouldn't help convince herself that he was bad and couldn't change... -_Convince? _At what point had it become a matter of _convincing_ herself? She _knew_ he couldn't change. Hadn't she just earlier come to that realisation? That all he cared about was his revenge, and that he could never love again after Milah?

Part of her mind spun into action. Wasn't him being vulnerable, like he had just moments before, evidence that he was changing? Emma considered this thought. Maybe she had just been too blind, by her fear of getting hurt to see. But, if he was changing, then why had he just walked off? It was quite rude to exit mid conversation. If he had asked her to drop it, she would have understood, but to physically walk away, was just bizarre.

Realisation dawned on her. He had been open, in a way she hadn't seen since their first conversation about Milah. He was trying to hide himself from her; although why, she did not know. All she knew, was that she wanted to see him. She wanted to see this side of him, to prove to herself that it existed. Before Emma knew she had done it, she had walked over to the door and she had her hand on the handle. Emma took in a few deep breaths and then joined Hook outside.

It was freezing. Her skin felt as if it were going numb, only after a few seconds of exposure to the harshness of the cold. It was a true blizzard. Bitter white snow coated everything in a blurry film. Emma couldn't clearly see very much in front of her, it all blended together in a mass of whiteness assaulting her eyes. She could however see Hook. He was a few feet in front of her, standing with his back to her, statuesque against the chaos of the snow. He obviously had heard her come outside, he turned around slowly and met her gaze with gritted teeth.

"Emma you'll freeze lass, go back inside." He growled sounding angry. There was no evidence, that their previous conversation had occurred, showing on his face.

"No." Emma answered quickly. "_You_ need to come inside." Emma had started shivering. She wrapped her arms around herself, in attempt to keep herself warm.

"Don't be stubborn love. You've already injured your leg I don't need you catching pneumonia as well."

"And I've told you before, I don't need you to take care of me." Emma said jutting her chin out indignantly.

"You and I both know that's a lie." Emma looked away, she had forgotten how easily he could read her. Now that she wasn't looking at him, she remembered the reason she had come out here in the first place. Emma put her hands on her hips and forced herself to level his gaze.

"Come inside, we can talk." Her teeth chattered slightly, but she was overall pleased with the serious tone she managed.

"About what?" He said raising an eyebrow. _About Milah_, is what she wanted to say, _about what you meant by 'I deserve to be haunted', about why you seem to hate yourself so much. _Emma however, said none of the above. He was looking at her angrily, with slight annoyance clearly present on his features. Where was all the vulnerability? A scary thought arose in her mind, had she simply imagined it?

"About things..." She said trailing off, losing more of her confidence. Maybe she had been wrong, maybe he hadn't changed. Hook sighed heavily, as though this conversation was aging him.

"Just go Swan." He had dropped to the formality of her last name, and her certainty wavered even further.

"No I won't." She may not be sure what kind of person he was, but she wasn't about to let him stay out here and freeze to death. She didn't know how he was managing not to shiver. She herself was still freezing.

"I thought you were done with me?" There was a faint challenge set in his eyes. Emma was confused as to why he brought this up, but was offended by it. A spark of anger flared inside her at the veiled accusation. She _was_ done with him... wasn't she? ... Yes, she was!

"I am." She said decisively firmly, but in truth, she found her heart wasn't in her words. Her tone seemed to convince him though, for he replied.

"Then go. I will come back inside love. But right now, I just need to be alone." He said gruffly and Emma found that she couldn't argue further. She was lost for words, her mind had gone blank. She felt tired. Having a spark of hope and then losing it so suddenly made Emma feel glum and void of the energy required to argue further. She wasn't going to force him to talk to her, that defeated the purpose, he was supposed to _want_ to talk to her. But he obviously didn't and Emma felt stupid for even considering that he would.

He turned around again, so his back was once more facing her. She was stupid, what had she expected? He was the pirate Captain Hook and she should have trusted her earlier judgement on him. He _was_ more than he portrayed himself to be, he was broken, but he also could never be fixed. She knew she had lied to him about how she was done with him. But she _wanted _to be, and Emma decided that was enough. She finally turned on her heals and grasped the door handle, yanking the door open. Emma walked back into the house, part of her regretfully wondering what would have happened if she had admitted the truth. She didn't care though, it didn't matter. Emma was back inside the warm house, leaving Hook as a lone dark figure, contrasting with the blizzard of freezing whiteness, that he was standing lonelily in the midst of.

* * *

**A/N 2: I promise a non-spoiler-y teaser for any reviewer who can guess the correct **_**Star Wars**_** episode Greg was watching. :P**

**Just in case you're wondering darlings, the bruises Emma sees, are from when Gold beat Hook with a cane, remember Cora left the bruises, and that wasn't too long ago, so the bruises would definitely still be there.(pretty sure he got beaten on the same day as the car accident) **

**Hoped you liked this sweeties. :)**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	12. Chapter 12: The Best and Worst Things

**A/N: Good news sweeties! Forever ago I was talking to a reviewer about how it would be interesting to go into Hook's back story, but I didn't think I would be able to go into that in this fic. I stand corrected, I just came up with his back story and I will fit it into this fic. I already planned to do Greg's back story, so I am going to do a chapter half and half with both of their back stories. It's going to be awesome darlings! That however, is a long way away, but it is something to look forward to. :) Oh, anyone get the subtle TVD reference in the title? ;) Well anyway, I hope you like this chapter as much as I do my lovelies. :) ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

It had been two days. Two days of silence, only broken by occasional rudimental speech and acknowledgements. It had started after their conversation out in the blizzard. The blizzard still hadn't abated, neither had Hook's detachment. If Emma didn't know better, she would have said him to be depressed.

The past two days had been a blur in their exact likeness. A routine, that had occurred as well on this third day, even though the day was not yet over. Hook would re-bandage her leg in silence. They would eat canned soup in silence. They would read some of the books lying around the house, in silence, to pass the time. Then they would go to sleep on the couches, without so much as a whisper of goodnight.

At one point, she had told him of her discovery that they were in Canada. He had just nodded, the name obviously meaning nothing to him. She had thought this would at least spark some action. Make him ask more about where they were, and help her devise a way back to Storybrooke, a matter that she was drawing blank on, but he had seemed indifferent to this new information. She had asked him if he wanted to help her strategise a way for them to get back. But he had just stiffly replied, that she should concentrate on getting better and then walked off. She had wanted to go after him and argue, but everything about his manner said it was pointless. Also he was right, there wasn't much they could do, while it still hurt her a lot to walk. Yet it didn't mean that she enjoyed the waiting. The waiting for her leg to heal, was almost as painful as waiting for Hook's mood to break.

It was scaring Emma. She had thought that it would eventually pass over and Hook would return to his endearing smirk prone and glib manner. It hadn't. At first she hadn't bothered to talk to him either. She had been a little mad, not entirely at him, more herself for not being truthful to him, even though it didn't matter. He had asked her on numerous occasions to trust, but it wasn't easy. Being more open and trusting was the kind of person Henry wanted her to be, the kind of person _she_ wanted to be again. So Emma was trying, but her not telling him the truth, felt like a step back in the wrong direction.

She was afraid to tell him the truth and she knew this was what caused some of her hesitancy. She was afraid about what it meant for her to say it, what it implied and probably most how he would take it. She knew he wasn't ready to really talk, talk the way she had thought he had been, when he had shown the moment of vulnerability and had spoken of Milah. But he needed to hear her tell him that she wasn't done with him, even if it was more about her saying it, than him hearing it. It was for her, to help her become a better person, to change, something she knew sadly Hook could never manage. She had been on the road to becoming her best self, ever since Henry had entered her life. So she could be the mother he deserved. She knew she had come a long way, but she still had a while to go. To be more trusting, was a big step that she had to take.

The longer the silence had stretched however, the more difficult it seemed for her to start a conversation and reconcile her mistake. He had halted all her earlier attempts with simple curt replies, or sometimes even just a nod, to show he had heard but didn't care to answer. Emma didn't know what had caused him to go into such a mood. A small thought was that it had been her and smidges of guilt that accompanied that thought, ate away at her like acid. She did not know how it could have been her fault though and the guilt was in low enough quantities, that she could easily ignore it. He was a pirate, he was tough. Her lie about being done with him, surely couldn't have been the sole reason he was in such a state. It had to have been something else. Emma considered possible reasons. Maybe being so close to his revenge and then getting stuck in this situation, had been the cause of the souring of his mood. It made _som_e sense, but why did it get so bad, _just now_? Emma gave up trying to put reason to his mood, deeming it a pointless exercise. Nevertheless the thought that it was her fault, was still there, and as the day grew on, it gradually pressed into her thoughts more deeply.

* * *

They had planned to use the weekend to work towards fixing whatever magic had altered people's memories. That hadn't happened. Henry had been stuck the whole time traversing across Storybrooke, hoping from one store to the next, with Regina on one arm and Cora on the other. They had gone insane, _well_, he amended, _insane-r_. His birthday was not the coming Tuesday, but the one after that. Apparently it took this weekend and the next one to get all the necessities for his party. Henry didn't dare to wonder how long it would have taken, if they had gotten more than just the essentials.

On the Saturday, he had phoned Grace and told her he wouldn't be able to make the meeting and that she should meet Greg without him. She wasn't keen on the idea of working with Greg alone. So after much deliberating, it was decided she would meet him, and tell him that their help would have to be indefinitely suspended, well at least for the duration of the weekend. This upset Henry a great deal, they had had so much time with the weekend and now they were stuck with the measly hours after school. Henry only hoped Greg could accomplish something of substance without them.

At one point on the Sunday, Regina had been called out on mayoral duties. She had claimed it wouldn't take too long, _it had_, and Henry ended up being stuck alone with Cora, _for two hours_. She had him trapped in a clothes store and insisted he tried on every available garment. She was not happy with any of the ones he tried on, finding some small detail wrong with each outfit. Henry eventually had zoned out until Regina had returned. She had had a strange smile on her face, slightly unfamiliar for even this new Regina. But when she had caught sight of Henry, she had a face of shock. Henry had looked at himself in the mirror and found himself dressed in the pink lace of a princess costume. Regina put a stop to the clothes trying on and Henry found himself very grateful. He had asked her about her good mood, for he knew mayoral duties were usually taxing on her, but she brushed his question aside with a 'it's late, we should go home'.

And now here Henry was, Monday afternoon, racing to meet Greg and Grace in the town square. He arrived to meet Grace standing and waving. Greg was getting out of a car parked a little while away from Grace. All three met and exchanged greetings. Grace questioned Greg on where he had procured the vehicle and he replied that it was a rented car, for while his car got fixed. Henry couldn't contain himself any longer.

"So did your find out anything on the weekend?" Henry was excited by the hope, that he had.

"Not as much as I would have liked." Greg answered. Henry felt disappointed and suppressed a frown. "I went to the Sheriff's station, to see if I could find any file evidence that would help prove that your mother existed. I couldn't find anything. I also ran into the Deputy David. I asked him if he had gotten any strange calls, because I know you told me Emma said that she would call them, but he didn't know what I was talking about. I think I made him a little suspicious, so I had to leave after that. I uh, met up with Regina..." Greg trailed off at this and flushed. He coughed and continued. "Right now I think she is our best option at understanding this. I need to make her trust me enough that she can tell me herself about the whole magic thing, and then I can discreetly ask her about this spell thing."

"I think that's a good idea. I mean, none of us really knows too much about this kind of magic." Henry said.

"That's what I was thinking. I also managed to gives us an excuse to spend time together, I told her that I'm tutoring you guys in math." Henry wrinkled his nose at the word. Math was probably his least favorite subject, Grace shared a similar look.

"That'll work." Henry said. "But I think we should come up with a code name for this operation as well, you know, to be extra safe." Grace smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes!" She agreed. Greg smiled too.

"Okay, any ideas for a name?" Greg queried. Henry and Grace both started thinking hard.

"What about _Operation Dragonfly_?" Grace suggested. Everyone was pleased with it and it was thus named. Henry realising they had gotten a bit distracted and spun them back on track.

"So there were really no files on her?"

"On Emma? No, but where there should have been files, there was just blank pieces of paper and where her name should have been signed or filled out, was just blank as well. Like it had been erased." Greg said scratching his head, wincing when he accidentally touched a sore spot.

"Like their memories." Grace said. "This must have been a really complex spell, I don't know if even Rumpelstiltskin could have casted it..." Grace said trailing off, getting lost in her thoughts no doubt.

"What are you saying?" Greg pressed, dragging her out of her thoughts. Grace pushed some of her brown hair behind her ear, which the chilly wind had whipped out.

"It's just. The last time someone used magic this complex, they needed a curse, you know like the one Regina used." Henry didn't understand where Grace was going with this.

"So they used a curse then, what difference does it make about how it was cast?" He asked.

"Well," Grace said looking between Greg and Henry. "Curses like that are really hard to acquire, messing with people's memories is no easy feat for one person. If Rumpelstiltskin was involved, then he would have needed help, he wouldn't have been able to do it by himself. Plus I have no idea how he would have gotten his hands on a curse, there were very few back in the Enchanted Forests, let alone in this land."

"So what you're saying is, there's more to this than being just as simple spell?" Greg said with slight asperity and annoyance.

"Yes, and that the 'Rumpelstiltskin did it' theory, might be a little off." She said sadly, evidently no less happy with her conclusions than the two boys.

"How do you know so much about this?" Greg asked in slight wonderment at Grace's contribution.

"I was born in a world with magic, remember? This basic stuff is kind of common knowledge." She said blushing slightly as Henry smiled at her fondly. He was once again glad Grace was helping them, she was very insightful and he could see they would have struggled without her.

"Okay, well what now?" Henry said. "What's next?"

"Well we should try to find some of your mom's stuff, if it's still here, physical evidence is hard to ignore. I know it sounds very complex right now, but maybe were looking at it the wrong way. Maybe if we just convince them and help them remember, the spell will break." Greg suggested with a shrug. Henry felt his hope reignite.

"Your right, it couldn't hurt to try, it's better than doing nothing. I know Emma packed most of her stuff when she went away, but there might still be some things lying around the apartment. Let's go to Mary-Margret's and David's house." Henry said. They all nodded and Henry waited for Greg to start walking and lead the way.

"Umm.. I don't know where that is." He said. Henry and Grace both broke out in light hearted laughter, the grim air of complexity had been vanquished.

"Come on, I'll show you." Henry said taking the lead.

* * *

Emma in her boredom, had worked out what day it was. It was Monday in the week of her birthday. She turned 29 on this Thursday, the 28th of November. Then next week was Henry's birthday on the Tuesday, the 3rd of December. She was supposed to have been back by now. Her birthday was drawing ever near and all that she had wanted for this one, was to spend it with the people that loved her, her family. Instead it seemed that she would be stuck here, with a broken leg and a moping pirate.

Emma was getting frustrated, this slow pace, was building up tension inside her. She was sitting on a dining chair in the kitchen area. A book laid in her lap, which had been disregarded for the past hour or so. She was unconsciously curling and uncurling her fingers on the fabric of her pants. She had managed to eventually find some. They were sweats and gave her welcome warmth opposing the coldness of the house. That was still quite cold, even with Hook's fire. Emma had completely lost track of time. It was already dark outside, the only light coming from the last few rays of the sun, that were fighting to bend over the horizon. Emma looked down at her book and found it too dark to make any of the words out. She huffed out a short breath and threw the book on the floor.

Emma made her way over the kitchen bench, where two candles and some matches had been placed. Emma was feelings stressed and angry at the slow paced speed things were currently moving at. She didn't feel like reading any more, but she was opposed to just sitting in the dark. Emma struck a match and lit one of the candles. Last match, but the candle took to the flame. Emma was going to light the next one, when she noticed the letter lying on the bench. Emma actually hadn't read the letter, as soon as she had seen the word Canada, it didn't seem important enough to invade the owners privacy to read it. _Invade the owners privacy?_ They were already squatting in their house, going through already opened letters didn't seem too big of a leap, from the level of crimes they had already committed. Plus, Emma's increasing anger being pent up, screamed at her that doing something productive might ease her tension. She opened the letter. It was typed and only a few lines.

I'll meet with you. We can talk.

The old house, I bought it back.

For your sake, I hope you were telling the truth.

Emma turned it over, nothing on the back. There wasn't even anything saying who it was from. The letter was useless, the words meant nothing to her and did not in any way help her. Like the book before it, Emma threw the letter down on the ground. The swiftness of her action, sent a burst of air flying towards the candles flame, extinguishing it.

"Great." Emma said under her breath. She reached for the match box, but stopped. That had been the last match. Emma sent up a silent '_why?'_ to the heavens. There were more matches, but they were in the living room, where Hook undoubtedly was.

All of today her anger had been steadily growing and she wasn't in the mood to deal with Hook. Emma's still not fully acknowledged guilt that his sadness was her fault, directed some of Emma's pent up anger towards the pirate. She didn't like being mad at him, especially because he was in such a dejected state, but it couldn't be helped. The pain of her leg, combined with her feeling of ineffectiveness towards returning home, was enough to fuel her anger. It was really more annoyance, but her tension had magnified it anger.

Emma walked, propped on her walking stick, into the living room. Hook was sitting on the floor next to the couch she usually slept on, with his head hung and his arms resting on his knees. He looked up towards her when she entered. His blue eyes filled with slight annoyance, silently asking her why she had disturbed him.

"Matches?" She asked. He pointed over to the fire and then returned to his head hung position. She went over and picked them up, turning to look at Hook. He was watching her and looked away hastily as her eyes caught his. It was then Emma noticed a bottle residing beside him.

"Is that-?"

"-Rum?" He finished her question. "Yes, it took some searching, but I found some amongst that horrid Brandy." He said with a fake overenthusiastic smile. When she just stood there staring at it, he asked. "Want some?" His voice full of sarcasm. This was probably their longest conversation that they had had since the blizzard incident. Thinking of that reminded Emma about what she had promised herself to tell him. Emma pocketed the matches and walked over to him, a sweet smile plastered on her face as though she was going to decline. Instead she grabbed the bottle; not missing the look of surprise on his face, before she downed as much as she could, till the burning feeling was too much and she brought it back down coughing. She had really needed that. She sighed contently as slowly the buzz of the alcohol, spread through her and she felt a small amount of her tension ease. Part of her hoped that the alcohol would give her the little push of confidence, to tell him what needed to be said. Another part decided that she just wanted to have some fun, forget their depressing situation and push worry out of her mind, well at least for this one night. When she went to take another swig, Killian took the bottle off of her.

"Bloody hell women! I wasn't being serious." He said angrily. Emma just smiled, so this is what it took to get him out of his mood. A kind of giddiness was overtaking her, her Captain was back, even if it was only his angry side. She didn't mind, it was better than this sad man she had put up with for the last few days. Emma had a feeling she was going to regret it in the morning but right now she didn't care. She stepped close to him, real close. He didn't move back, she internally smiled. Just as their noses nearly brushed, she grasped the bottle out of his hand and stepped back.

"Ha!" She exclaimed and drank some more.

"Emma really?" He said reaching for the bottle, but she used one hand to keep it out of reach and the other to keep him far enough away that he could not reach it.

"Yes really. We could both use some fun. I don't- I don't want to think tonight. I just want to be. No worrying about Henry or Storybrooke or whatever. You too." She said accusingly.

"Me?" Killian said looking confused, halting his attempts to retrieve the Rum.

"Yes you, you've been all sad-like for days. Stop it, it's weird. Just be happy, like me!" She exclaimed letting herself fall dramatically backwards onto the couch. She burst out giggling soon after she had done it.

"Emma you seem to be a bit of a light weight, do you really want to get into an evening drinking with a pirate?" A smirk was struggling to make itself known on his face. But she could see his hesitancy thinning.

"Am not!" She said loudly, this caused him to smile. "I know what I'm getting into." She said indignantly, shaking her head in a slightly superior manner and making a face.

"I don't think you do." He said with whatever sombreness still remained in him. "But, what kind of pirate would I be if I didn't accept that kind of proposal?" He said his smile returning full force.

"Not a very good one." Emma agreed. He sat down on the couch next to her and she passed him the bottle. He took a swig and grinned at her. Emma smiled back feeling happier than she had in a long, long while.

* * *

**A/N 2: This chapter was supposed to go on from here, but I figured it was long enough.**

**The next chapter will hopefully be a really good one. ;)**

**Might even get Killian singing sweeties. :) Maybe, still deciding.**

**Sorry for any errors.**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	13. Chapter 13: When Blood Turns To Alcohol

**A/N: Resisted the urge to join Tumblr again, but it is getting harder and harder. :( Don't know how I'm writing so much of this so quickly... I guess y'all are just really lucky. The chapter title is in reference to Ed Sheeran's song 'Give Me Love'. The song Killian sings (yes he sings :P), I wrote it, as I do dabble in poetry. Try reading it with a swaying bitter sweet kind of tune. Anyway, I hope this chapter pleases you my darlings. ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

"Did you really?" Emma said laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes. Killian had been recounting a very humorous tale and was just coming to the end of it. Emma had no idea what time it was, it seemed like they had been talking for hours, but at the same time it felt like mere minutes. She was having too much fun, all her earlier tension had faded. She had found that Killian was easy to talk to, now that his mood had elated like hers, from its previous sad state.

"Yes, I just ran and never looked back." Killian said with equal happy fervour. Something about what he said, stirred something inside Emma. Her laughing slowed and her hand instinctively went up to her swan necklace. Killian seemed to notice the change in her mood.

"What's wrong love?" The drinking had seemed to make his accent thicker and his husky voice sent a shiver up her spine. Emma looked him in the eyes to reply.

"It's nothing." She said, but her eyes dropped and she found herself not being able to hold his gaze. Her giddiness seemed to be slowly evaporating. A feeling of emptiness was gradually penetrating her mind and stabbing her happy emotions with its bitter cruelty, bursting them like balloons.

"No it's not princess." Killian said, they were sitting directly side by side. Emma could feel the warmth of him pressed into her right side. Their nearness made it easy for him to catch her face with his hand and hold her chin, gently turning her face back to look at him. "What is it?"

"You don't want to know. You don't want to talk." She said in a contempt filled tone, her slight anger causing her words to slur a little. She had drank a little too much, to know what she meant by those words, but they came out anyway.

"Haven't I been talking this whole time? And," He paused, a look of sincerity appearing on his face. "If it's making you sad, I do want to know, so I can try and make it better." He said his fingers starting to stroke her face delicately. Emma closed her eyes and enjoyed the tingling sensation that his touch was giving her. She forgot what he had asked her, she didn't particularly care to remember, she was caught up in the gentle motions of his fingers on her face. He removed his hand and her eyes flew open. He titled his head and waited for her decision. "Well?" He asked. Emma gave him a scowl, but she couldn't hold it for long and it transformed into a giggle. She strained her mind and tried to remember what he had asked, it took considerable effort in her intoxicated state. Eventually she remembered and managed to conjure up a reply.

"Oh, well, when you put it that way." She said in an overdramatic voice, smiling at him. "But if I'm going to tell you, I get more Rum first, hand it over." She instructed.

"Emma I don't think-"

"-Ah." She interrupted pressing a finger to his soft lips. "No Rum, no story." She said firmly and then proceeded to remove her finger. The emptiness she had felt seconds ago, fast becoming a fading memory. Killian looked at her and sighed. Then he smiled and Emma knew she had won.

"Okay, but just have a little bit darling. I don't want you passing out midway through your tale." Emma smiled and clapped her hands together excitedly. He passed the Rum over and she took a quick small gulp, mindful of his advice. But she held it for a second longer and found herself taking another one. Killian smirked and reached forward, he pawed it off her before she could take a third. He took a swig himself and then sat it back down. "Now what is this story and how did it make my pretty Swan sad?" Emma had been too busy admiring his perfect blue eyes, to catch all of what he had said.

"What?" She said sounding extremely puzzled.

"The story." He prompted with a bigger smirk, reaching for her hand, she let him take it. His hand was warm and comforting."Unless you prefer to do something else instead?" He said brushing his thumb over the back of her hand in a caressing gliding motion, her skin tingling under his touch. "I'm open to alternatives." He said raising an eyebrow suggestively. Emma was unable to stop her blush, but she otherwise ignored his comment and went on as if he hadn't said it.

"Oh right that. The story..." Emma said trailing off, his face was very distracting. She cast her gaze downward to his hook. The metal gleamed and shimmered from the firelight's dance of flickering flames. She stared down at it, one hand on her swan necklace, the other intertwined in Killian's and started to recount her tale. "Once upon a time there was a lonely girl. She was young, lost and unwanted. One day she stole a stolen car and that was when she met him. He was charming, nice, and for the first time made her feel wanted. They had many adventurous together and one day the girl knew she had fallen in love. He stole gifts for her and there was one she always kept on her, a little key chain. She thought he had fallen in love too, for he wanted to settle down with her, in a magical place called Tallahassee." At this point Emma had tears rolling down her cheeks, she made no move to stop them. She was still staring at Killian's hook and continued on with her story. "But there was a problem and the girl was the only one who could fix it. He hadn't wanted her to help at first, but she told him that she loved him and he said it back. She had believed him. Then he agreed that she should do it. So she went to steal the stolen watches for him, to clear his name, so they could finally properly be together in Tallahassee. She did it and he let her keep one, that he said looked good on her." Emma voice broke on that, but she pushed forward. "They decided to meet after he had gotten the money, but when the girl got there, it wasn't him. It was a cop. He had set her up, they arrested the girl and she went to jail to pay for his crimes, for eleven months. She found out she was pregnant with his child. She gave it up, so it could have a better life than with someone so foolishly trusting, someone who had screwed up her life so enormously. The girl kept the swan key chain. She wore it as a necklace, to remind herself never to trust someone again. And no one but him lived happily ever after. The end." Emma finished and burst into sobs. She leant into Killian and she felt his arms instantly wrap around her. She cried for a long time and Killian just sat their holding her, stroking her hair reassuringly. When she finally pulled back, she wasn't sure what to say, so she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"It's my birthday this Thursday." She said. She met Killian's eyes, but saw no judgement in them, so she relaxed a little. He didn't seem to mind the change of conversation.

"Really?" He said. "That sorta soon lass." Emma was sitting in his lap looking up at him, he still had his arm hooked loosely around her. She was grateful for it, for she feared without it, she would topple over. Thanks to the Rum, the world was spinning a little.

"Yeah." She replied. "When-when's your birthday?" She asked in curiosity. Killian's face screwed up slightly, as he obviously tried to remember. If Emma wasn't feeling so suddenly sad, she might have laughed. "Don't you remember your birthday?"

"I haven't celebrated it in so long..." He said running his fingers through his scruff in thought. "I think it was the first day of the year, but I could have just celebrated it then, to save me remembering the real date." He said, his head drooping sadly.

"Who doesn't remember their own birthday?" Emma wondered aloud.

"When you've had as many as I have love, it's hard to keep track." He said looking up at her again. His gaze was filled with a strange kind of intensity, that she couldn't quite make sense of.

"You haven't had that many." She said perplexed. "How old are you?"

"Physically, I guess, thirtyish, but in reality I'm much older. Do you recall me saying that I spent many years in Neverland?" Emma vaguely remembered him mentioning that on their Beanstalk journey. It took a little while, but what that fact entailed sunk in. Emma was familiar with the stories of Neverland, she had read them as a kid, and she remembered how no one aged there.

"How long?" He gave her a puzzled look, so she amended her question. "How long were you in Neverland?"

"Too long my dear." He said with a grimace. "But if you want a number, I'd say around three hundred years, give or take a decade." She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp, but Emma couldn't hide her look of shock.

"That's a long time." She slurred.

"Aye it is." He said and she could see the tiredness mingled with sadness in his eyes.

"I have to tell you something." Emma said, remembering something from earlier in the evening. She sounded certain that she wanted to tell him, but Killian looked anything but sure. She remembered that it was important to tell him, but she couldn't exactly remember why. It didn't matter though, she could feel the information bubbling up inside her, ready to burst out at any moment.

"Emma, are you sure that's not just the Rum talking? You've had quite a bit to drink love." Emma considered this, but the Rum made it hard to tell if it was the Rum clouding her judgement. Emma's mind gave up, instead reaching for the first most coherent thought formed, to use as a reply.

"I haven't even told you yet." Emma said crossing her arms over her chest, swaying a little with the movement. " Plus it's not the Rum, well maybe a little, but it doesn't matter, I still want to say it." Emma waited for him to accept that she was going to speak, despite his objections. He sighed.

"Very well. What is it you want to say lass?" Killian looked like he knew where this was going and wasn't at all pleased by the direction. Emma however, was too focused on keeping the thought, of what she wanted to tell him, in her mind to notice. When she realised he had answered acceptingly, Emma smiled pleased, but her face went blank, when she looked up and locked her eyes with his.

"I lied to you." She confessed. He didn't seem shocked or upset, he just replied in a level tone.

"When?" He asked, his gaze not leaving hers. His face mirrored her blankness, but his eyes were filled with great intensity.

"I lied to myself." She admitted, a single tear falling down her face.

"Why?" He asked and he wiped her tear away. His hand brushing over her cheek in a caress, before returning to his lap.

"Because I was afraid. Afraid to trust myself on how I feel about you." Her words were coming out slower than she would have liked, but it could not be helped. It was due to her slightly excessive amount of Rum consumption, but she feared without it, she would have stopped speaking a long while ago.

"How do you feel about me?" He asked his hand cupping her cheek. Somewhere her mind was telling her to stop talking, that she's already said to much, but her thoughts were murky in her drunken haze and she couldn't place the reason as to why. It was too late anyway, for before she had even registered that she had thought the words, they were already softly escaping out her lips.

"I- I'm not done with you." She said and smiled. He tentatively smiled back.

"I didn't think you were." He said, but his smile dropped away with the coming of his words. A look of familiar sadness encompassing him. This reminded Emma of his recent behaviour. Hadn't it been her fault? She wondered. Hadn't he been sad because of her lie? Emma voiced her ill thought out concern.

"Then- then why were you- so sad?" Her words slurred and she knew the alcohol had really caught up with her. He was starting to involuntarily blur in and out of focus, much like her surroundings, which had already been doing that for a while now. It was late and her eyelids were sore, from being propped open so long. But despite her growing tiredness, she wanted to know the answer to her question. If it wasn't her lie that made him sad, then was it her? Did it just upset him so much to be in her presence? Was she just really boring and depressing? Didn't he want her either? Did he not like her at all? Well she knew he liked her in one respect, the respect that she was of the opposite gender. But that was hardly surprising. Maybe it was silly of her, to think that he thought of her, as more than just another women to bed. Maybe all these thoughts were silly. She could barely make sense of them in her drunkenness, there was a high chance they all were nonsense.

A new string of thoughts weaved their way through her muddled mind, grasping her drunken attention. Maybe just being another girl was enough for now. She wanted him, he seemed to want her, his suggestive comments certainly made it seem that way. Maybe they could have a little fun and she could show him how not boring she was. She was quite certain now that it was the alcohol clouding her judgement, but at the moment she didn't care. She had been having such a fun time, till she had nearly fallen into the abyss of despair from the remembering. She could feel the joviality returning to her the more she pursued the idea. She didn't want to feel sad again, and she suddenly had the urge to do whatever it took, to keep her happiness flowing. Even if it meant making an even worse decision, than spending an evening drinking with a pirate. Killian had taken a while to answer and he seemed to finally decide what to say, interrupting her buzzing thoughts with his voice.

"Because-" He began slowly, but she cut him off. In the same manner as before, by putting her finger to his lips. She didn't want to hear his answer, from the look on his face before he had started to speak, she knew what he was going to say was sad. She was balancing on a blade edge, ready to fall either way, the tiniest bit of sadness would make her fall, so she wouldn't allow it. He looked slightly taken aback by the interruption, but he didn't try to speak further, allowing her talk.

"Actually no. I don't -want to know." She said cupping her hands around his face. "I don't -want to ruin this. I just want to..." She let her words trail off as her lips were mere millimetres from his. She could feel his breath on her face and it mingled with her own. Just as their noses brushed and their lips were mere moments from meeting, Emma pulled back, suddenly feeling gravely ill.

* * *

She paled before him, the flush of the Rum clearing, replaced by a green hue. She bent over and retched. Emptying the contents of her stomach into the waste basket fortunately placed beside the couch. She fell off of him onto the floor and all the warmth he had just felt vanished with her. He quickly caught her; distantly remembering telling her, he would always be happy to catch her when she falls. He brushed the thought aside. He lifted her up as quickly as his drunken state allowed, but he knew she was far worse off. He could hold his liquor better than her and she had drank such a great deal, that he doubted she would remember any of this the following day. He helped her back onto the couch into a sitting position, but as soon as he let go, she slumped to the side. Emma mumbled something incomprehensible, but otherwise didn't respond. Giving up keeping her upright, he laid her on her side. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. Upon returning he found that she had turned onto her stomach. He rolled her back on her side.

"Emma, drink this." He said. She was falling asleep, but she managed to open her mouth and he poured some water in. She swallowed. Killian then fetched a small cloth, that he would have used for bandaging. Killian cleaned up her face with the cloth, by wetting it in the remaining water. When he was satisfied, he sat it down on the small amount of couch, that her body wasn't occupying. Killian felt cold, she had been sitting in his lap for so long, he felt like he was missing a piece of himself with her absence. Killian rolled his eyes at the silly thought, instead concentrating on the feel of her body, pressed into the back of him. Finally he was able to command his thoughts into order.

This felt like a dream. It had been surreal, a taste of what might have been, if he wasn't the man he was. Emma had trusted him, opened up to him, told him of her own haunting past. He finally fully understood why she had left him at the top of the Beanstalk. Even though he had long ago forgave her for it, this new understanding helped him feel better for forgiving her so readily. He couldn't believe, that the man she loved had been such a coward. Had just left her like that. _A man unwillingly to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. _Words from his past floated back to him, he reached up and gripped the ever present silver chain that hung round his throat. He fingered the two charms that hung from it. Part of him wanted to share his story with her, like she had him. But his was a dark and grim tale, and she already thought so little of him, he couldn't bear the thought of her thinking any less. To see disgust for him spread across her angelic features, would surely stop whatever remained of his heart. His hand dropped and he prayed she never asked, for he found it almost impossible to say no to her. Even a heart as pure as hers, would not be able to forgive him for his sins. But if he told her the truth of who he was, whatever small hope he had left for them, would be crushed, and he was nowhere near ready to lose that. It was really all he had.

Killian had been miserable for the last few days, trying to do what was best and ignore her. It was a vicious cycle. The more he ignored her the sadder he felt, and the sadder he felt, the more he ignored her. Killian had to constantly remind himself it wasn't in the cards for him to be happy. He didn't deserve it. He shouldn't want it. But when he looked at her, he wanted to deserve it. He wanted her and wholly her. He wanted her to know and forgive him, for his unforgivable past. He wanted her to love him. Killian's throat went dry at the thought. This is what had made him so depressed. The swirling thoughts of wants and what if's, so far beyond his reach, tortured him.

But his Swan was too perceptive, she saw too much. She had noticed his unhappiness, she had thought it had been something she had done. He had made _her feel guilty_ and this caused his self hatred to flare. He would have to do better. Him staying away from her, ignoring her, was supposed to make it better for her. To protect her, not hurt her. He would have to come up with another way to handle this situation, but he was too drunk and tired to come up with an idea tonight.

"Killian..." Emma whispered and his head snapped around to look at her. She was gazing up at him sleepily.

"What is it love?" He replied softly.

"I'm not going to remember this, am I?" She asked in the same hushed tone, her words slurring together, as they had been for a while now.

"Probably not." He answered truthfully.

"Hmmm," She sighed staring off at nothing, but her eyes slowly dragged back to his. "I was the girl." She admitted quietly.

"I know darling." He said stoking her long blonde tresses. "Go to sleep." Emma began to close her eyes, but just before they were fully shut, they came creeping open again.

"Can I sleep in the bed? The couch is uncomfortable." She told him drowsily. They had slept on the couches every night. Partly because they were close to the warmth of the fire, but Killian had wanted to make sure he was near her when they slept, so that he knew she was safe. If she had slept in the bed, he doubted she would have let him sleep next to her, and he would have been forced to sleep in another room, awake all night worrying about her safety. But for her however, the warmth of the fire had probably been the only reason, that she choose to rest on the couches.

"As you wish." He replied. Killian stood up and scooped her into his arms, mindful of her broken leg. She didn't protest, but he figured this was due to her tiredness, rather than her not minding being carried by him.

As Killian walked out of the living room, he found a long forgotten tune surfacing in his mind. It must have been all the thought on remembering, that caused this ancient tune to rise from the depths of his memories. He began to softly hum it. It was something from long, long ago. But as he neared the bottom of the stairs, the words started to flow back to him and he found himself singing it softly. It was a bitter sweet melody and it rolled off his tongue in a swaying tune, similar to the gentle rock of the ocean.

My love calls me home, but the sea is my life,

It runs in my blood, and sways in the night,

My love says she's dying, but I can't hear her cries,

The wind of the sea, blows her of out sight,

My love is now dead, her heart broken in two,

Her tears are all dried, and her skin is snow white,

My love haunts my dreams, but her face I don't know,

For the sea is my love, and her face is bright

As the stars in the sky that at night time do roam,

My darling, my only, the sea is my home.

The sea is my life, and my love, is the sea.

Forever we sail, in swaying harmony,

Loving each other everlastingly,

For only the sea, for me!

By the last line, he was in already in the master bedroom and had laid Emma down on the bed. He had pulled the sheets back before he had set her down and now he moved to cover her with them, but he was interrupted by her voice. He had thought her asleep, for her eyes were shut, but she talked to him with them still closed.

"So sad..." She said on an exhale of breath. He just smiled and continued with his work, covering her with the sheets. He made to get up, but felt himself pulled back down by her hand, that he had been unknowingly holding. Her eyes rolled open trying to find him in her half asleep daze. "Stay." She said. He didn't reply, instead just tried to disentangle his fingers from hers. "_Stay._" She said more firmly and his hand stopped trying to break free.

"Okay." He said sounding a little breathless. She seemed to believe him, as she let her fingers slide from his. Killian made his way to the other side of the bed. He shook his shoes off and detached his silver appendage with two clicks. Setting both aside. Killian pulled back the covers and slid into the bed beside Emma. As soon as he was in, she snuggled forward, until her body was comfortably right next to his. His arm went around her and she nuzzled her face into his chest. Despite the cold he felt warm. In this embrace, he felt all the empty holes within him filling. Even though this all felt like a dream, he didn't care. All he cared about was right now, him holding Emma, and them falling asleep in each other's arms. Fitting together, like they were made to do this. This was simpleness, the uncomplicatedness that the day would never give them. This moment was precious, impossible, real and unreal all at the same time. He breathed her in. Her scent conjuring images of a forest, with golden sunlight flowing down on fragrant flowers. She smelt of sunlight and wildflowers. Killian knew that they would soon wake up and whatever spell they had been under would be gone, but right now he was just living this moment. Their pasts didn't matter, the future, didn't matter. There was only now, and Killian holding the women he loved in his arms.

* * *

**A/N 2: I don't know if any of this makes sense, but they're drunk, so my writing is excused. :P**

**I really want to get up to the **_**back story**_** chapter soon, I'm dying to share it with you darlings. **

**Sorry there was no Henry POV, had to be done, forgive me. **

**Did you like Killian's singing? Wasn't what you thought it would be sweeties, was it? ;) Any excuse for me to write poetry, hope y'all don't mind.**

**Sorry for any errors...**

**You like?**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	14. Chapter 14: Beautiful Nightmares

**A/N: Another chapter my lovelies. I love you all and I sincerely apologize for my lack of updates. I have been busy because I started reading two new book**_**s**_**, started playing SWTOR again and made some CS fanvids. :P I also had no internet, which did slow me down a little. Please forgive me darlings. :( A friendly reminder, my Greg is **_**very**_** AU and he does not follow any of the storylines presented after 2x12, the episode that this fic is set after. A little bit of MM POV in this chapter. :D Btw, little **_**WARNING**_**, Emma's dream is a little dark. Chapter title in reference to the song 'Sweet Dreams' by ****Beyoncé****. I hope you like this chapter. :) ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

"Do you think they're home?" Henry asked. Grace and Greg accompanied him on either side, as he stood staring at the apartment door. Henry knew that at this time of day they would still usually be out. It was around half past four and even Mary-Margret, who was the first to return home, normally only got back at five thirty at the earliest from work. Although, the knowledge that they were likely not home did not console him. Mary-Margret was sometimes known to come home early and he prayed it wasn't one of those days. However Henry didn't doubt, that if they were home, they would let him in, but as to why he was visiting he would have no answer. Also there would be no opportunity to search for evidence of Emma, or a plausible excuse to give him an opportunity to. There was also the minor problem of explaining why Greg and Grace were with him. All these thoughts caused Henry to sincerely hope, that both Mary-Margret and David were in fact not home.

"Only one way to find out." Greg replied and raised his hand to knock thrice lightly on the door. When there was no immediate answer, he backed it up with more knocks and a, "Hello?" They were still met with deadly silence.

"I guess they're not home." Grace decided and Henry nodded in agreement. Greg reached for the handle and tried it.

"It's locked." He said and with his other hand started to reach into his pocket.

"It's okay, I have a key." Henry said. Greg's hand dropped back to his side. Henry pulled out his key and slid it into the lock. He gave it a twist and pushed at the door, it came swinging open. The apartment was most definitely vacant. It radiated a feeling of emptiness, and nothing but unnerving silence greeted his ears. Henry was very aware that the last time he had been in here, had been when this nightmare had first begun. Henry pushed the thought aside, instead trying to focus on finding things, that would help them prove Emma's existence.

"I'm going to look for the book." Henry announced and waltzed over in the direction of his room. Grace followed behind him and Greg nodded to him in acknowledgement. When Henry entered his room, he noticed how everything looked untouched. It reminded him of how his room at Regina's had looked when he had first gone back there. Even though Mary-Margret and David were very different to Regina, in so many ways, he couldn't help but smile at this small similarity. Maybe they weren't as different as they thought they were.

"Where do you last remember seeing it?" Grace asked, pulling Henry out of his musings.

"Uh, the shelf, I think." He said pointing at his organised mess of a shelf. Henry suddenly felt a wave of unannounced self-consciousness at the state of his room. Grace didn't seem to notice, she just started to pick her way through his things.

"Is this it?" She asked after uncovering a corner of what looked like the storybook. Henry stepped forward to examine it closer.

"Yeah I think it is." He replied and helped her pull it out. As soon as they saw the cover, they both looked up at each other and smiled. They had found it. "Let's go show Greg." Henry suggested.

"Okay." Grace agreed. They walked into the main living area of the apartment, to find Greg on the phone. Upon seeing them, he threw them a quick apologetic smile.

"Yeah, it's going good." He said into the phone. While he was obviously listening to the other person reply, he mouthed to Henry and Grace 'Regina'. "Uh-huh." He replied again. Henry wondered why Regina was calling Greg, but his question was answered by Greg's next reply. "You know kids and math. But they're getting there." So Regina was calling about their supposed math tutoring. They might actually have to get Greg to teach them something, if Regina was going to be so proactive towards checking on their progress. "That sounds like a nice idea. ... Yeah it's fine. ... Oh, he's right here. I'll put him on." Greg pulled the phone away from his ear and held it out for Henry. "She wants to talk to you." He said with an encouraging smile.

"Okay." Henry said and took the phone. "Mom?"

"Hi Henry! How's the tutoring going?" Regina asked in a cheerful tone.

"Good." He replied, waiting for her to get to her point.

"I just said to Greg, that maybe you could come home a little early. I'm making my special lasagne and I thought all of you might want to stay for dinner. Greg says it's okay with him. Also I called Jefferson and he said it was fine for Grace to stay too. What do you think?" She sounded so hopeful and happy, it was hard for Henry to try and decline.

"The math tutoring is really important, I don't know if it would be good to cut it short." Really, they had little time as it was, to put towards fixing this messed up situation and they couldn't afford to lose any of it, even for Regina's delicious lasagne.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I was just missing you a little." She said sadly. "But, its fine. I'll call Jefferson and let him know of the change of plans..." She sighed and sounded very resigned. Henry suddenly felt really guilty. He was now very familiar with the feeling of missing someone you loved and if he could do something to stop feeling like that, he would; so he felt like he owed it to Regina, to soothe her feeling of missing him.

"Actually, maybe I could miss a little of it." As soon as he had finished saying it, he was deafened by Regina's happy squeal.

"Really?" All her happiness returning to her voice. "That's great Henry! So I'll see you around six-ish?"

"Sounds good." He replied sincerely.

"Okay see you then!" Regina said, her excitement clear in her voice. The phone clicked as she hung up. Henry passed the phone back to Greg. He took it and shoved it into one of his pockets.

"So, what was that about?" Grace asked confused.

"After this, we're all going to Regina's for lasagne." Grace at first looked excited at the prospect, but then a small amount of worry crept onto her face. Henry quickly tried to resolve it. "Don't worry, she checked with your dad. He said it was fine." Grace's smile returned and Henry beamed right back at her.

"Okay, let's get back to the search. Wait, what's that?" Greg said, grasping and redirecting their attention to the book, that Henry was firmly clutching.

"Oh, it's the storybook. See?" Henry replied, holding it so Greg could better see the cover. "It has all the stories of what really happened. I thought it might be useful in helping them remember." He finished with a shrug.

"Hmm, it might." Greg said sounding unsure. Henry couldn't blame him. None of them had been too tempted to believe its contents before the old curse was broken, so Henry had no reason to believe it would help them to remember any better now. "Well at least it's something." Greg allowed. "Let's keep looking though, I have a feeling there is still more to find." They all nodded and continued their search.

* * *

Emma was sound asleep. It was a peaceful sleep, a happy sleep. But then something changed. All the comforting happy warmth that had settled itself around her, was ripped away. Emma started to twist and turn in her sleep. Her subconscious protested and suddenly Emma's eyes flew open inside a dream.

Everything was strangely bright and Emma's eyes hurt trying to adjust. Eventually she could make something out. She could see Henry in the distance, playing with a little girl. Was it Jefferson's daughter? Emma wasn't sure. She tried to step forward to see more clearly, but for every step she took, the scene moved a step away, so that she couldn't reach it. Emma gave up moving and watched the scene unfold. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, that she needed to go to Henry, that she needed to reunite with him. But she couldn't quite make sense of the desire. Emma once again tried to focus on the scene. The two children had made their way to the swing set. They were swinging in eerily perfect union, laughing and daring each other to go higher.

That was when Emma noticed a figure in the background. He was standing in the shade. She could just make out that he was wearing a hoodie, his head bowed so as to hide his face. But for some reason Emma could see his wicked smile. He stepped forward, moving closer to the children. The shade clung to him, the darkness still obscuring her view of him. Emma was filled with fear. She didn't know how or why, she just knew he was going to hurt them. The figure took another step. Emma started running towards the children, but it was still no use. They were still unreachable. The figure apparently didn't have that problem. He took another step. Emma screamed out.

"Henry! No, no, no." Her voice made no apparent sound, as if she had been set on mute. "Stay away from him!" Emma tried again, redirecting her shouts to the figure. She still made no noise that her ears could hear, but the figure looked up at her. She didn't recognise his face, but it looked somewhat familiar. It was cut up on one side, like he had been in some kind of accident, but the cuts were in the process of healing. Emma didn't have time to study his face longer, for he raised his arm and pointed at something out of her line of view. Before Emma could turn to look, the whole dream pivoted around her. It revealed a rectangular clearing, bordered by trees so closely packed, that they might as well have been a hedge. Someone was sitting on the far end of the clearing. Not someone, _Killian_. He was holding someone in his arms, but Emma could not see who. She tried to move to the side to see who it was, but the dream pivoted to match her every move, so she couldn't see. Emma sighed, giving up on her attempt to see who it was, and started walking towards him.

"Killian?" She called when she was about half way to him. Her voice still made no sound and unlike the creepy figure, he didn't respond. Emma finally reached him and peered over his shoulder to see who it was he was holding. _It was her. _Shock and fear raced through her. Her heart started beating at an uncontrollable rate. She was staring down at herself, embraced in Killian's arms. The other her didn't seem to see her, she was busy staring at Killian.

The dream shifted and blurred and suddenly she was the Emma in Killian's arms. Emma was confused. She tried to turn away and see if another Emma was looking at her over Killian's shoulder, but she found her body unwilling to respond. Emma tried again, the same result. She was frozen somehow. Frozen, staring into Killian's beautiful blue eyes. She tried to talk, but even her mouth would not obey her minds commands. Killian was staring back at her. He was smiling joyously, at odds to the strong feeling of fear, Emma was currently experiencing. But, his kind smile did ease her feeling of tension a little and she felt herself relax ever so slightly.

"Emma." He said still staring at her, right into her eyes. He brought his hook up, the metal gleaming dully in the light. "I love you." He brought it down stabbing it into her chest, the hook embedding itself in her flesh, the tip of it _just_ piercing her heart. Pain flooded into her and blood flooded out of her. Fear came rushing back to her, worse than before; but she still couldn't move, she still couldn't escape. Her vision was blurring against the pain, but she could still see his azure eyes, still staring lovingly into hers. "I love you." He repeated and drove the hook the rest of the way in.

Emma's eyes flew open. She was lying on her side, looking out across the empty side of the bed. Her eyes connected with the hook resting on the bedside table and she nearly fell off the bed, scrabbling to distance herself from it. Her motions were still sluggish, the Rum not yet having exited her system.

"Emma?" Killian was standing in the doorway holding a bucket. "Are you alright love?" It was still dark. Emma had likely only been asleep a few hours. She was coated in sweat and her hair was plastered to her forehead. Her cheeks felt wet, she brought her hand up to them. Had she been crying?

"I-" But Emma couldn't get any more words out, as a wave of nausea hit her. Killian rushed forward with the bucket. He handed it to her. She rested her head on the rim of it, and tried to slow her breathing. Slowly the nausea passed, without her having to empty the contents of her stomach again.

"I thought you might need it." He said gesturing to the bucket. "That must have been quite the nightmare lass. You looked petrified." He said looking at her interestedly. She was sitting on the side of the bed and he had come to sit next to her.

"I don't remember." She said drowsily and then a massive yawn escaped her. She heard him chuckle beside her.

"Go back to sleep then love. You still need to sleep the Rum off." She nodded and slowly set the bucket down. He got up and returned to his side of the bed. Emma leant backwards and basically fell back onto the bed. She was asleep again before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

A good amount of time passed. How long, Henry wasn't sure, he was too busy searching through the apartment. They had been doing a room at a time and had finally made it into Emma's room. So far they had discovered nothing conclusive. They had found a couple of photos that Emma should have been in, where she simply wasn't. Like she had been erased. They had made note of the more suspicious looking ones, like where Mary-Margret had her arm out and was hugging thin air, to be used when they laid their case and did their evidence backed try, at convincing them of Emma's existence. They couldn't physically take them, because Mary-Margret and David would notice their absence. So Henry tried his best to remember where each important one was.

Currently Greg was sitting on Emma's bed, sorting through some more files and letters he'd found around the house. He was absently playing with one of the rope cords, on his hoodie, that were used to tighten the hood. Grace and Henry were going through her wardrobe. There wasn't much. Coming to Storybrooke, Emma hadn't really taken much with her. Henry supposed she wasn't one to have a large array of personal effects. So, on her trip with Gold, she had just about taken all her stuff. There were a few lonely cardigans hanging in her wardrobe, but that was about it. There was a shelf above where the clothes hung, but Henry wasn't tall enough to see or reach it.

"Greg?" Henry asked. Greg looked up, pausing in his document reading. "Can you?" Henry said pointing to the high shelf.

"Sure." Greg replied getting up off the bed. He walked over to where Henry was standing.

"Is there anything up there?" Grace asked, standing on her tiptoes unsuccessfully trying to see.

"It's a bit dark, it's hard to see." Greg answered. This was true, it was pretty late. It was getting near the time to turn the lights on in the house. But Henry knew they couldn't, because the lights could be seen from the street and their cover would be blown. "Wait, I think there's something in the corner." Greg said stretching up, reaching to the back of the shelf. His hand returned and passed something to Henry. "There's something else as well." He said reaching up again.

Henry examined what Greg had gifted him with. It was a thin black scarf. Odd, he only knew Emma to have one scarf, her big red one. This scarf was in poor condition and looked partially stained by something. Henry brought it to his nose, it smelt of salt and something strong that burnt his nose. He brought it away from his face and attempted to stifle a sneeze. Then Greg, after a little straining, pulled down a small cardboard box from the shelf. They all leant over to peer at its contents and then were startled by the sound of keys in the front door.

Greg dropped the box and they all looked at each other with equal faces of fear. Inspiration hit Henry and he started to lightly shove Greg and Grace in the direction of the wardrobe. They didn't protest catching wind of his idea quickly. The wardrobe was quite large and would easily hide all three of them. Henry thought it was unlikely that either Mary-Margret or David would come into Emma's room. To them it was likely just a spare bedroom, so the chance of them remaining undiscovered was pretty good. Henry heard the familiar creak of the door swinging open and used that sound to muffle him closing the sliding wardrobe door shut. His heart was beating madly and it almost stopped when he heard Mary-Margret's voice shout out.

"Hello? Is anyone in here? David?" Each of her shouts were met by silence. He then heard her heels lightly clicking on the floor and the muffled thuds that indicated she had gone up stairs. A couple of minutes later he heard the shower run, and Henry let out a breathe he had been unknowingly holding. He gently and as quietly as he could, opened the wardrobe door. He stepped out with Grace and Greg following silently behind.

"Let's go." He half whispered, half mouthed. None of them needed to be told twice, they all scurried out of the room as quietly as they could and proceeded to soundlessly exit the apartment. As soon as they were outside and jogging down the street. They all let out big woops of joy and started laughing. Adrenalin was buzzing through their veins and now that the danger of being caught had passed, everything just seemed silly; hence the laughter.

"Come on." Greg said when the laughter had died down a bit, and they had all slowed down to a reasonable pace. "Let's go to Regina's."

* * *

After a satisfying shower, Mary-Margret headed down to the kitchen to make a hot cocoa. She had just spent the afternoon grading papers and was a little strained. Not that she didn't like it. She loved every aspect of being a teacher, but no one was perfect and some of the more repetitive tasks, tended to take a bit out of her.

She was just walking down the hall on her way to the kitchen, when something caught her eye. Mary-Margret stopped walking and turned around. A door that was usually shut was open. It was the guest bedroom, but Mary-Margret didn't remember opening it. She tried to remember if it had been open on her way in. A little bit of fear made itself known inside her. She had walked into the apartment feeling as though someone else was in there. But she had wanted to have a shower so badly, when there was no response to her calls, she had brushed the thought aside. In her rush to get to the shower, she obviously hadn't noticed the open door either. But the apartment had been locked and she didn't know of anybody in Storybrooke, that would ever want to break into her house.

Mary-Margret went to walk on, something inside her was telling her to brush this aside, to not question it. But this was too odd, so she turned around and paced into the room, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. It was empty. Well of course it was, she really hadn't expected it to look otherwise, nobody lived in here. Mary-Margret sighed and went to walk out, thinking how silly she had been to walk in here, when she noticed something on the ground. It was a small cardboard box. She picked it up and took out the contents. It was a blanket. A soft small white blanket, cotton and embroidered around the edges with purple ribbon. She spun it around in her hands and fingered the name embroidered in the same purple ribbon. 'Emma'. A name so familiar, yet so foreign. Something in her mind knew it meant something, that it was important. But as she tried to reach for why it slipped further and further out of her grasp. But suddenly she caught something. Wasn't 'Emma' the name Henry had called out. Wasn't 'Emma' the name of her supposed daughter. Something snapped in her mind, Mary-Margret threw the blanket away from her with such haste, one observing would assume it had been burning her. Her feet started walking swiftly out of the room. Her hands reached out and slammed the door shut behind her and before she had time to think on what was happening, she had been dispelled from the room.

Then Mary-Margret found herself in the kitchen making hot cocoa and found nothing strange about her sudden location change. When the cocoa was ready, she topped it with cinnamon and started sipping it absently, staring off at nothing. She was interrupted when the apartment door swung open and Charming stepped onto the premises. She went to take a sip of her cocoa, only to find that it had grown cold. She stared down at her half filled mug with a confused expression, as Charming greeted her.

"Hey Snow, how was work?" She looked up, he was hanging up his gun holster and putting his deputy badge away. She was about to respond, but then he turned and when he saw her he added. "Are you alright?" His voice thick with concern.

"Yeah, fine." She said and poured her cold cocoa down the sink.

"No you're not. You've been crying. What's wrong?"

"I haven't been crying." Mary-Margret retorted instantly, bringing her hand to her eyes to prove it. But when she touched them, they were wet. "Have I?" She said looking into the closest reflective surface, which happened to be the toaster. Her eyes were quite red and puffy. There were also tear stains all down her cheeks. "I didn't realise." She said frowning. Charming smiled, obviously relieved that nothing she could remember was troubling her.

"Oh well, come here, I'll get you a tissue." He plucked one out of its little box and handed it to her.

"Thank you." She said taking it. "I don't know why I was crying, that's really strange." Mary-Margret contemplated how or why it could have occurred, but nothing came to mind.

"Well, all that matters is that you're fine." He said holding her shoulders reassuringly and looking at her intently.

"Right, I'm fine." She affirmed and smiled. Neither one of them noticed another silent tear falling from her eyes. "Cocoa?" Mary-Margret asked turning away and starting to grab the necessary materials.

"That sounds great." Another tear drop fell and Mary-Margret, without realising she was doing it, quickly wiped it away. Charming smiled, she smiled, everything was right. Everything was beautiful and perfect. Her tears mocked the perfection, but they were silent and she couldn't hear them. Everything was fine.

* * *

**A/N 2: Sorry, I know y'all were all looking forward to the morning after scene, but this had to come first. **

**Thank you to **_**captainswanfeelings**_**, who has been spreading love for my fic in the CS tag on Tumblr. :D Thank you darling!**

**Another random thing, any of my lovely readers want to join this role-play?: forum/Once-Upon-A-Roleplay/122493/ **

**I'm playing the lovely Killian and there are still lots of other character available. :) (btw new to RP-ing)**

**Oh and sweeties, I've written this scene that is a long way away, but it will kill you when you read it. For when you do, I am so, so, sorry. I hope me apologising in advance, helps to make it better.**

**Once again, so sorry for the delay and any errors in this chapter.**

**And no, I have not yet filled my creepy dream quota, there will be more my lovelies. ;)**

**What did you think of MM POV?**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	15. Chapter 15: A New Hope

**A/N: Yay, kind of happy with this chapter. Hope y'all are too my darlings. My muse had been trying to desert me, though like Killian is with Emma, I'm so not done with this story. :) ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

They were on their way to Regina's house, when Henry realised he still had the black scarf in hand. He turned it around in his hands a couple of times, trying to discover some hidden meaning in it. Some message from Emma, she had obviously kept it for a reason and Henry only wished he knew why. Giving up for now, he shoved it into one of his pockets. He was finally coming down from the adrenal high, that their close call with Mary-Margret had induced. Henry started to sift through his thoughts. _The book_. He'd left the book at the apartment. He went to turn to Grace and tell her just that, when he realised she was holding it. She obviously caught his look, for in the lull of her chitchat conversation with Greg, she turned to him and said.

"I grabbed it when we were getting out." She exclaimed proudly. Henry smiled back, it was nice to have someone like Grace who was always on the same wavelength as you. Greg however, looked a little confused, but didn't ask. He turned to Grace and continued on with their conversation, leaving Henry back to his thoughts. Henry wished that they had seen what was inside that box. They would have to go back now, to find out. Or maybe he could just pay Mary-Margret and David a visit and find out then. If he knew what he was looking forward, it would be simple to go and check for a second, when they were distracted. Henry kept the idea at the back of his mind, he'd have to ask Regina if he could visit them some time. Henry was then distracted from his planning, when Grace asked.

"Greg, why do you believe in magic?" Greg tensed at this but then relaxed as he answered.

"Because I've seen it." He replied simply, but Henry couldn't help but interrupt.

"But seeing isn't believing, especially for adults. My Mom told me about how she met Pinocchio and he tried to show her his wooden leg, so she would believe, but she couldn't see it. She could only see that he was turning to wood, after she decided to believe for herself." Henry let his statement hang in the air, unsure what else to say. Greg stopped walking and they all stopped beside him. He turned to face Henry. Trepidation was evident on his face, similar to how he had first looked in the hospital, when trying to decide whether to trust them. His fists were clenched at his sides.

"This wasn't the first time I've seen magic. I've known of it since I was very young. But I'm afraid that's a story for another time." Even though Henry really wanted to know more, he bit back his questions. Greg was obviously very cut up about it, so Henry decided to let it drop.

"Okay." Henry said in a reassuring tone, he saw Greg relax a little. Henry looked around them, they were about a block away from Regina's house. Grace and Greg had already started walking again. "Wait." Henry said and they both turned back to him.

"What is it?" Grace asked.

"We need to talk about _Operation Dragonfly_, before we get to Regina's. Like, what are we going to do next and stuff." Henry elaborated.

"Yes, I think we still need to look for Captain Hook, I think he's still important. So we need to go to the Marina." Grace suggested, Henry nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, and Belle too. I think her not remembering anything has something to do with this. If Rumpelstiltskin is behind all this, then Belle might have known something and then he could have erased her memory, so she couldn't tell anyone. Whatever the case is, I promised her I'd help her remember and I just have this feeling that she knows something important." He said avidly.

"If this Rumpelstiltskin character is as powerful as you say, he might have something that can help us get rid of magic." Greg added.

"He also might have something that could help Belle remember, we should check out his shop." Henry agreed.

"And I'll keep trying to get to know Regina, like we decided before." Greg said, clarifying that they were all on the same page.

"Yes." Grace said smiling. "Come on I'm hungry, let's get some lasagne." She added hand on her stomach. Henry laughed and Grace's smile grew. They all continued walking to Regina's house.

When they reached the door, Henry was about to knock, but it flew open before he could. Cora stood with the biggest smile on her face and started to wave them all in.

"Come in, come in!" She exclaimed excitedly. "Regina's just in the other room." She said pointing across the room, when they were all inside. "I trust you'll excuse me, I have to get back to making dessert!" She squealed in equal excitement, and with a twirl, she was off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Wow." Greg said. "Was that Regina's mother?" He asked.

"Cora, yes. Don't ask." Henry said dismissively. Greg didn't, and they all walked over to where, Cora had said Regina was. They found her huddled up on a couch, surrounded in blankets and used tissues. The TV was blaring the opening credits to the _Star Wars IV_. Regina seemed to notice them all, for she paused the TV and hurriedly wiped under her eyes.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you all so soon." She said, as she started to collect her hazardously thrown tissues.

"So you took my suggestion after all." Greg said smiling at Regina, who flushed slightly at this.

"You got my Mom to watch Star Wars?" Henry said to Greg impressed.

"Weren't you watching one the other day, Greg?" Grace asked him, scrunching up her nose in her attempt to remember.

"Yeah, I was watching _A New Hope_." He said first answering Grace and then went on to answer Henry. "When I saw her a couple of days ago, I made a Star Wars reference and she didn't know what I was talking about. So I told her she hasn't lived until she has seen them, and apparently, she's started to watch them."

"They're really good." Regina said smiling at him, seeming to have regained most of her composure. "The lasagne is going to be another twenty minutes. So we can go and talk, or maybe we could all start watching the next one?" Regina said biting her lip and pointing to the screen.

"Movie." Grace and Henry both said instantly. Regina turned her gaze to Greg.

"It's _Star Wars_, do you even have to ask?" Greg answered already sitting down. Regina grinned and un-paused the movie.

* * *

The first thing that Emma was made aware of, was a throbbing pain in the back of her skull. It was so irritating, so persistent, that it made Emma attempt to open her eyes. It felt like there were weights on the top of her eyelids, but she eventually managed to pry them open. Emma's throat ached and there was a sour taste in her mouth. Emma's eyes were now open and her brain was attempting to make sense of what she was seeing. It seemed as though she was in a bed, but she didn't remember getting into one. Emma tried to sit up and held her head in an attempt to stop the wave of dizziness she felt. She was then promptly startled by a voice.

"You know lass, for a women who is seemingly unaffected by my charms, you were surprisingly easy to get into bed." Emma jumped up and off the bed. Which she managed to do, without putting weight on her broken leg. She reached for her cane, which was laid beside the bed and rested her weight on it.

She now stood beside the bed, looking down on a very smug looking pirate. Today he was dressed in jeans and dark grey shirt. He was reclining on one side of the bed, on top of made sheets, like he owned the place. Emma head still hurt like hell and she was in no mood for his shenanigans. Mind you, she would be more likely to argue, had she any idea how she had gotten into the bed in the first place. Wait- dizziness, headache, _was she hung over?_

"Did I... What happened last night?" Emma questioned rubbing her head, she didn't like the smirk he was giving her.

"Don't you remember?" He said, answering her question with another. She sighed and tried to think.

"Not right now, I just feel really hung over. But once I get some coffee into me, I'm sure I'll remember." The underlying threat was clear. While Emma was ninety percent sure nothing had happened, there was still the other ten percent. Her words said 'if something happened, you better tell me now, before I remember myself'. She looked at him to see if she could read anything from him, but he just laid there smirking right back at her. But she saw no guilt or rather, not enough smugness, to suggest that something had transpired between them. Satisfied that he had lived up to his self proclaimed gentleman title, Emma sat down on the bed. She started putting her shoes on, for her toes were already starting to feel numb from the cold. Emma got back to thinking about coffee, just the thought had her starting to feel better already. She had discovered a jar of instant coffee grains the other day and by adding water boiled on the stove, she could create some half decent coffee. Sure she had to take it black, but it was better than nothing. Emma felt the bed move under her and turned to see that Hook was now sitting up.

"You know love, pirate's cure for a hangover, is drinking salt water." He suggested with a half shrug. Even though Emma had started to ignore him, this perked her curiosity.

"Does that really work?" She asked turning to face him properly.

"No, I just said it to see if you'd try it." He admitted grinning. Emma glared at him and got back to ignoring him. "But, if you don't want to try that, I'm sure I can-" Emma cut him off before he could finish his sentence, which no doubt was going to be another innuendo.

"Why are you in such a good mood? Last time I checked, we were still stuck in Canada." He just sighed, shaking his head.

"Aye, that is still true. But I've recently found something, that will help us get back to Storybrooke."

"What?" Emma replied instantly.

"While I appreciate your eagerness darling, it's better if I show you. Come down stairs when you're ready and I'll show it to you then." Emma frowned at him, partly because she was annoyed that he wasn't just telling her and partly because she was fighting a smile at his words. Why did everything he say, seem to have a double meaning? Emma then found she was angry at herself, for finding it endearing enough to nearly smile at, rather than simply finding it disgusting. Emma sighed and tried to redirect her annoyances towards Hook, for not just giving her a straight answer. Emma knew her next words must have sounded a little whiny, but it couldn't be helped.

"Why can't you just tell me what it is now." She felt the urge to add in a foot stamp, for good measure, but resisted. Hook had gotten off the bed. He was still smirking that infuriating smirk at her and that just made her frown deepen into another glare.

"It would spoil the surprise. Patience is a virtue princess." He replied and made to leave. She was going to let him, when suddenly her curiosity got the best of her for the second time.

"Hook wait. What really is the pirate's cure to a hangover?" He stopped walking and turned back to face her. He was standing in the door way, he chuckled and gave her a genuine smile as he replied.

"More Rum." And then he was gone.

Emma bit back her own smile. She still had a terrible headache and felt distinctly unclean. Emma sighed and decided to have a shower, then she would go and meet Hook downstairs. She headed down the hall on her walking stick and subsequently shut herself into the bathroom. Emma hurriedly got undressed and hopped into the shower. In her couple of days of being here, she had gotten it to an art of not getting her leg bandages wet.

As Emma had began scrubbing herself in the shower, slowly but surely, the memories of the previous night had started to come back to her. She remembered having fun, drinking and laughing, listening to Hook's tales. He had seemed very happy too. The rest of the memories suddenly came rushing back and Emma felt herself blushing. Oh God,_ what had she done?_ But her embarrassment at confessing her deep dark secrets to him, some things she hadn't even really admitted to her herself, suddenly melted into anger.

Why had he sat there and listened to her tell him all that? He had been comforting, he had held her while she cried. In fact, the memory felt more like remembering a dream than reality. It had been so strange, yet, it had felt so right. The memory of his arms being wrapped around her, of her sitting in his lap, was happy. She had felt at home in his embrace. But why? Why did he hold her, why had he treated her like that? Everything he had ever said to her, had been about how she was just his ticket to get back to his revenge.

Emma was still mad when she stepped out of the shower, and began drying herself. It didn't make sense, he didn't make sense. He had been so distant and then so caring. Emma was so confused, his words spoke differently than his actions, and she had no idea why. Why was he like that? Why couldn't he just be straight with her? Did he like her, or hate her? Emma was suddenly reminded of her similar words, that she had said to him, in response to him kissing her.

Right before, he had been acting in a similar fashion. Totally mean to her and then he 360'd and kissed her. She was still angry with him for doing that. Was he just toying with her? Did he get some kind of thrill by messing with her emotions? Or was it what she wanted to believe it was. Was it Killian Jones seeping through Hook? Was it him fighting who he had become, a man focused on revenge, and changing into better person? Had this been him showing that he cared for her, even though he seemed to fighting it, for some reason. _Some reason_, Emma really? His revenge and his love for Milah, would always hold him back. He could never fall for her, when he still was in love with a dead woman. He was stuck clinging onto the past. He didn't want to let go, he didn't want a future. He could never let go and he could never love her.

She was angry at herself as well, why did she let herself feel these things? Emma used to be in control of her emotions and she hated the fact that right now she wasn't. That stupid pirate, why did it have to be him? Of all the people that had tried to reach her, tried to get her to open up, why was it him the she responded to best? Why him Emma? _Why him?_ Emma chuckled darkly, well typical, wasn't it? She already thought she was very screwed up and that the universe seemed to hate her, but this just proved it was worse than she thought. She finally gets herself to fall in-_to trust _someone again, with all of her, her whole self and the man she picks is probably the worst possible choice. A pirate stuck living in the past, unable to move on and dark with the desire of his revenge.

But she couldn't help how she felt, how he made her feel. She supposed it was ironic that a pirate, a person who is notorious for begin untrustworthy, was making her trust again. Emma knew that he wasn't just a pirate, but thinking of him that way made it easy to brush away her feelings as nonsense. Never in a million years would she had seen herself fighting not to fall for the pirate Captain Hook. Yet here she was. Her parents were fairytale characters, it shouldn't have been such a stretch that she might fall for one, but it just seemed too impossible when she looked at it like that. But when she didn't, when she thought of him as Killian Jones, the man that held her while she cried, wiped away her tears, sung her lullabies and called her beautiful, it didn't seem so impossible. And these such thoughts were the ones that scared her the most. Truthfully she hadn't ever told anyone her full story before, she had yet to even tell her family. Why had she told him? She was such an idiot. Something was definitely wrong with her, she wouldn't be in this situation if something wasn't. Why couldn't she just be normal? Didn't she deserve to be happy?

Emma was getting very sick of her mind's unanswerable questions, so she tried her best to clear her mind and focused on getting dressed. It seemed to work. If she kept her thoughts busy, kept thinking about other things, than she could successfully avoid thinking the certain thoughts, that she particularly didn't feel like thinking; especially with her current hangover headache. She felt like crap. Emma hurriedly made her way down stairs, her heart fluttering the closer she got the kitchen. She told herself that it was because she was looking forward to her coffee, which she was, it wasn't because he would be in there, no, not at all. Focus Emma, she commanded herself. Coffee, right, where were the matches? There were still some in the kitchen, weren't there?

With her thoughts successfully distracted, she didn't even look at Hook, who was leaning on the bench, eating the usual breakfast of canned soup. She lit the stove with a match and started to boil some water. They were half way through there supply of matches, without them Emma didn't know what they would do. There would be no fire and they would have to resort to eating cold soup. Emma hoped that whatever Hook had found, would help them get back soon.

"Emma?" He said and she was forced to look at him.

"Hmm?" She replied nonchalantly. He was looking at her cautiously, Emma realised he didn't know she had remembered what had happened last night. She suddenly felt a little uncomfortable and unsure whether to tell him or not.

"Lass, why don't I redress your wound, while you wait for the water?" Emma nodded in reply. Maybe it would be best if she didn't tell him, right now at least. He probably didn't want to talk about it and she sure as hell didn't. "I can show you what I found as well, it's in the other room." He added pointing to the living room. A fire was already roaring in the grate. Emma started walking to the other room.

She sat down on the couch and Hook brought over all the bandaging equipment. As he began his work, he pointed to something on the small table next to the couch.

"See that Emma?" He said grinning. "That is a map, of what I assume, is the surrounding area. Unfortunately it does not indicate where we are, but I figured, if I was to walk down the road and find a road sign, we could work out where we are and then how far out of town we are. Then we could travel to the town, acquire some assistance and be on our way to Storybrooke in no time." A map, this was just what they needed. She fought not to show her awe at his discovery. She had no idea how he had managed to find it. The house was pretty much barren. Aside from a couple of books and the stack of useless documents in the kitchen, the place was empty of anything, let alone anything useful. Emma was about to commend him, when she thought better of it; instead deciding to voice some of the doubts, that had started to creep into her thoughts.

"A couple of problems with that plan. For one, there is still a crazy blizzard out there, you wouldn't be able to see anything, let alone a road sign." Emma countered logically, but before she could make her second point Hook cut in.

"Ah, but the blizzard has died down. It is still snowing, mind you, but the visibility is much better." He smirked at her superiorly. "You were saying?" Emma sighed.

"Okay then. What about my leg? If we have to walk a long way, I don't know if I'd be able to." Hook had finished unwrapping the old bandages and had already started applying the new ones. He didn't look up from his work as he replied.

"Magic." Emma stared at him, as though if she did it long enough, she could make sense of his answer.

"I'm sorry, what?" Emma was at loss, unsure if he had actually answered her question, or just taken a whole new direction with the conversation. Either way, Emma had no idea what his vague answer meant.

"Use your magic." He said looking up. "It's been a couple of days since you last used it and I'll wager, you've recovered enough to be able to use it again, to heal your leg." He then looked back down and continued his work. Emma considered what he had said, but then promptly came up with a better idea.

"If you think I've recovered, then why don't I just use it to make a portal? Wouldn't that be easier? Then I can worry about my leg, when we're back in Storybrooke." He sighed and looked up at her again, running his fingers across his jaw.

"Portals are difficult magic. I think the only reason you were able to open one in the first place, was because you have the combined magic of the Crocodile's and Cora's, along with your own. If you tried to do it by yourself... let's just say, it's probably not a good idea." His blue eyes were staring into hers and she could see that he was telling her the truth. Okay, scratch that idea then, she thought begrudgingly.

"How do you know so much about magic anyway?" Emma asked curiously. She didn't have him down as someone who would study things, let alone magic. He seemed to be a more, learn through action, kind of person. But he was no _Harry Potter_ and yet, he seemed to be quite insightful on the subject.

"If been around my fair share of it." Emma waited for him to elaborate, but he apparently wasn't; for instead of speaking further, he bent his head over her leg and concentrated on tying the finishing knot, of her bandages, with his teeth. This annoyed Emma, why was he so secretive? It made it seem like he was afraid to tell her his past. She titled her head and looked at him intently, maybe he was... -No, that was a silly thought, he had told her stories about his past the other night. Seeming to feel her gaze, his eyes flicked up to hers. He leaned closer to her, as he said. "A little advice, from what I've picked up, magic is linked to emotions. So if you want to use magic and stay in control, concentrate on who you're doing this for. There's not much stronger emotion, than the love a mother had for her child." His words had grown wistful near the end and Emma had felt the sudden need, to know what he was thinking. She didn't ask though, and after a few silent seconds of them getting lost in each other's eyes, Hook looked away. He got up and announced abruptly. "Well I best be off love."

"You're leaving now?" She asked and regretting speaking almost instantly. Of course he was leaving now, he obviously wanted to get back to Storybrooke as soon as possible. God, she had sounded almost desperate. Come on Emma, priorities. The sooner he leaves the closer you are to getting back to Henry. Don't think about him, think about other things remember. Granted that would probably work better if he wasn't standing right in front of her. Another reason for him to go. Still, the thought of him leaving, even momentarily, seemed to ... pain her. _No_. What is going on in her mind? Before Emma's thoughts could dig her into a bigger hole, Hook's reply managed to distract her.

"Well yes. Unless there's something else you want me doing, presently?" He said with a smirk and he actually had the nerve to wink at her. Well, she guessed she kind of asked for that one.

"Ugh, go." She said waving her arms at him in shooing motions. She grabbed her cane and stood up starting to walk towards to kitchen, but stopped. She turned back to Hook. He was just putting on his old leather overcoat. A backpack lay near his feet. She smiled at him. "Good luck." He smiled back, but it turned into a smirk, as he picked up the backpack and gave her a mini salute. He opened the crimson door and stepped out into the snow. It slammed shut behind him and Emma was left alone in the empty house.

Emma continued onward into the kitchen. It was strange, now that Hook had left the house, it seemed different. The house seemed bigger, colder even. Emma shivered. She was now in the kitchen, the water had boiled, so she began to make her coffee.

Soon it was made and she headed back to the living room. Emma sipped at it, not so grateful for the bitter taste, but patient for the caffeine shot it would soon bring.

Caffeine shooting through her veins, sitting on the couch with not much else to do, Emma decided she might as well try to use magic. She wasn't even half sure whether it would work. This was supposedly a world without magic, yet magical things still seemed to have their effects here. Like the well that brought back magic and the sleeping curse in the apple. Emma supposed she could be considered magical, so maybe her magic would still work. In the end, whether it worked or not, Emma knew it granted a try at least.

She sat down on the couch, a little unsure how to begin. She raised her right hand over her right calf and tried to remember what she had done the last time she had used magic. She just had to imagine what she wanted. She had to will it into reality and hopefully her magic would do the rest. Emma shut her eyes and tried to imagine her leg healing. She concentrated and concentrated, but there was nothing. She focused harder really tried to will what she envisioned to be true. For a second there was nothing but then she felt the tinniest spark of something brush across her mind. And then, just as quickly, it was gone.

Emma's eyes flew open and she hit the couch in frustration. This was so much harder than it had been in Storybrooke... _Storybrooke_... That made her think of Henry, he would probably be laughing if he could see her now; taking out her frustrations on innocent pieces of furniture. With that thought, Emma suddenly felt the spark return. Her eyes widened. _Of course_, what had Hook said, think of Henry. Emma quickly shut her eyes and tried to focus, desperate not to lose the spark again.

She thought of Henry, of him laughing, playing, of them having fun together. The spark grew, her thoughts fanning it, as though it were a flame. She thought of how it felt to lose him and the determination it spurred in her to get him back. She thought of how much she loved him and how she would do anything for him. The spark was growing still. She was so close, she could feel it. But she needed something more. She thought of her parents, how much she loved them, how good it felt to finally find them again. It still wasn't enough, she needed more. Emma was already giving it her all, but it wasn't enough. This is for Henry Emma, _you have to do it_. Focus on how you feel right now, she told herself. How much you want to get back to him.

Emma was not going to give up, she could do this, she just needed to focus. She could feel herself crying, the weight of feeling all these emotions taking its toll. But she needed to heal her leg, if she wanted to get back to Henry. She had to, _she had to do this_. She had to not abandon him, the way she was abandoned... _Hook_. Those were his words. At the thought of him, the little ball of magic in her mind seemed to surge. _Really?_ Emma felt like sighing internally. She was smart enough to realise she had... some kind of small emotional attachment, to him...

-God, no Emma, don't think about this, part of her said. The other part however, told her if this is what it took to heal her leg, to get back to Henry, then _she would_ add whatever small amount of emotion, thinking about him created. She sent up one more silent, '_why?'_ and then she started to think. All those repressed thoughts and feelings starting to break free. This is for Henry, she told herself one last time, before she dived in.

She thought about his smirks, the way he seemed to always be in her space.

_The magic grew._

She thought about how he made her want to laugh and how he made her want to slap him. She thought about his silly innuendos, his arching eyebrows, his teasing winks.

_The magic surged._

She thought about him holding her, the gentle looks he gave her. How his blue eyes seemed to shine, no matter what kind of light they were in. How he fixed stray curls of her hair. His laugh. His real smile.

_Her hand started to tingle._

Emma thought about how falling to sleep next to him had felt, like she could do this every night and never get sick of it. She thought about how they teased and bickered and argued, and how she loved every minute of their banter. Their own special language.

Emma remembered the day they met, what a terrible actor he had been and how she had seen right through him. Emma remembered climbing the bean stalk. She remembered them sharing brief windows into their past, even though they had just met. Emma remembering him asking her to trust him and how badly she had wanted to. Emma remembered him saying to her 'actually no' and how he had looked at her, as he had walked away. Emma remembered their sword fight and how he had been grinning at her like an idiot the whole time. She remembered seeing him on the side of the road, after being hit by a car, how she had freaked when Gold had kicked him. She remember the hospital room, how they had smiled at each other.

_Her hand was tingling fully now, like it was charged with electricity. Little shocks were being sent to her leg, but it still wasn't enough._

Emma thought about how he made her feel, when he simply looked at her. Emma thought about how much she cared for him.

_Her leg had started to tingle. Emma was breathing rapidly, her heart was beating hard and her head hurt like hell, but she pushed on. _

Emma though about how much she loved his smile and how she wished he did it more often. Emma thought about Killian Jones, and how she was in love with him.

_There was one final blaze, as the magic left her hand and surged into her leg. Then her head started spinning, her vision blurred and the world of the conscious faded away._

* * *

**A/N 2: I'm not sure darlings... what do you think? Good or terrible?**

**Ugh, this story is running away from me, I think it is going to be longer than I anticipated. I was aiming for 22 chapters, but now darlings, I think I won't get everything out by then. I might, but I felt that I should warn y'all that I probably won't. :P**

**This chapter just started spurting emotions half way through. Sorry about that, it just sort of happened. Sometimes I get a little caught up in explaining how the characters feel, hope y'all don't mind. :)**

**Sorry for errors, I fear there may be many...**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


	16. Chapter 16: Hook

**A/N: I'm so glad y'all liked the last chapter. So here's another one. :P Sorry for the delay, I have been really busy lately and I had no internet again. So I got Tumblr ... ... ... yeah, so ... you can find me at waitingforyouinneverland. :P I recommend you go and re-read the first part of chapter 9, cause I'm going to reference it and that might help jog your memories, so you know what I'm talking about in this chapter. Sorry again for the wait. I haven't even read over the whole thing in my attempt to update quickly, so be warned, there are probably many, many errors. I'll go over it tomorrow hopefully and fix them though. :P ~ Auream Lucem**

* * *

This was a good plan. It was definitely a lot better than all his previous ones. Killian walked out into the crisp air, his pack resting comfortably between his shoulder blades. He breathed in the scent of the forest. It was snowing lightly and he already felt the icy flakes getting caught in his hair. Everything was coated in a thick white sheet of coldness. The blizzard had done quite a job.

Adorned in his leather overcoat, Killian made his way across the snow covered ground, to what he guessed was the road. It was surprisingly hard to tell. The ground was heavily laden with snow, but there was a point where the land dipped; which Killian figured, was where the garden of the cabin met the road. He supposed it helped that he partly remembered its whereabouts, from when he had first found the cabin. Killian's heart tightened in his chest, at the other details of that day. Emma had been in so much pain... He shook his head dispelling the memory.

Instead Killian remembered back to their first day in the house. When she had finally woken up after breaking her leg. He remembered her bickering about her missing shirt. He smiled at that part of the memory. But then she had gone and asked _'why did you find me?'_. It had filled him with self hatred. He had had no real answer to give. What could he have said, _because I love you?_ He didn't deserve to say those words, and she deserved someone much better than him saying them to her. She hadn't listened to his brush off answer though, stubborn lass that she was, she had pressed on. The memory came back to him clearly as though it had happened days ago. Well it had, he realised, but it felt like a long time had passed since then.

... ... ...

"Even with my broken leg? I thought I was just a big inconvenience to you?" Emma said and Killian instantly knew to what she was referring to. When he had insinuated that she was nothing but dead weight, that he only tolerated her presence, because it would be dishonourable to abandon her. He stared at her, the words he wanted to say bubbling up inside him.

'Maybe what I feel isn't that simple. Maybe I love you and only want what's best for you and I know that's not me. I love you enough that I wouldn't be selfish enough to let you be with me, even if a little bit of you wanted to. You deserve so much better. You deserve someone whole. So I thought I would be able to push you away, make you hate me. But it's so hard, too hard. It kills me to hurt you. I get lost and found, at the same time, when you are around. I can't think, all I think is you. I lost control and kissed you, a small part of me is sorry, but the rest isn't. I can't think of anything I'd rather do. Every moment of everyday, I want to kiss you, to be with you, to just stand next to you and be a part of your life. I need you more than anything I've ever needed in my existence and I don't know why. Being with you I feel like I can truly be myself and that's someone I haven't known for a long time. I feel terrible though, I can't use you to feel whole, I'm just dragging you down. I'm a parasite on your perfection. And it kills me more to do that to you. I just want you to be happy and I know you will never be truly happy with me. No one wants just me, no one deserves to end up with me. I'm worthless and, you Emma, you are everything. I'm so sorry if I hurt you, but it had to be done. And now it has to be done again and I pray I'm strong enough to save you from myself. I'm so sorry...'

Killian wanted to say this, but he couldn't. She didn't need to hear that, it would be better for her if she never knew how he felt. Because as much as he knew she could never feel the same way, it would still hurt to know. So he internally sighed; clenching his hand into a fist at his side, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her, to tell her how much she meant to him and instead he said.

"What I think doesn't matter love. Right now you're my best option. So let's just focus on getting home." Killian couldn't face her anymore, so he started to walk out of the room.

"Home?" He couldn't help but flinch at that. _Bloody hell. _He tried not to trip up, but being around her made it so hard. Plus, it didn't help that she was so damn perceptive.

"Home..." He wasn't sure how to answer, but suddenly something came to him. He smiled darkly, this would help her see the worst in him. "_Home is where my revenge is._"

... ... ...

Killian often thought back on what he had wanted to say, and many time again, he had nearly told it to her. He sighed and started walking up the road. He pulled the map out of his pocket and studied it, yet his thoughts kept returning to the memory.

It had been the truth, in part, his last line. He had never been one to call a place home, no place he had ever been had seemed befitting of the title. But Emma caused him to use such a term, because being with her, being near her, gave him the feeling of home. When he was by her side, he had this distinct feeling like that was where he was meant to be, like that where he was made to be. A feeling that sang to him of forever and made him false promises of happiness and a life without revenge. But they _were_ false. There was no Emma and him, there never would be. There was only him, his revenge and the end. But when he had told her that last line, he had meant it. Home was where his revenge was, but it wasn't his fault that she happened to live in the same place.

That had been his previous strategy, tell her carefully thought out half truths. He had tried to make her hate him with these. But that had not worked, he got too distracted around her and ended up speaking his mind rather than what he planned to say. Trying to make her hate him had been slowly killing him as well, so now he had developed a new plan.

One thing he knew that was true about him, that at times he could be positively singled minded. So his new plan, was to focus on getting back to Storybrooke. Make that the priority of his thoughts. Then he could achieve one of two things. He could convince Emma that he indeed, only wanted to get back to Storybrooke for his revenge. That that was all that he cared about, he would fool her into thinking this by showing his driven determination to get there. As well as the second thing, getting Emma back to her son, back to her life free from him. His real motivation behind his actions. Her son needed her and as much as he needed her too, she didn't need him. Right now he could tell himself that that would be enough to force himself to leave her, when they finally got home. He would leave her, for her, and she would never know, never care to know. His plan was sound. He would seem focused on getting back to Storybrooke and Emma would be none the wiser to his true feelings. Once she was safe and back where she was supposed to be, he would avenge Milah and finally find peace.

Suddenly a thought popped into his head. Was the Crocodile still even in Storybrooke? In truth he hadn't thought much on the subject of his location. When they had been sent to Canada had he been sent with them? If he had been sent with them, he wouldn't have been too far away from them. So if he had been sent here wouldn't he have found them already? He hadn't, so that caused Killian to become more convinced that he hadn't been sent with them. The Dark One possessed magic, if he had been sent here than he had probably used his magic to help him return to Storybrooke.

But then something else didn't add up. When he had last seen him, he had been at the town line with Emma. He had looked like he had been leaving. But where to? He would have to ask Emma when he got back. Or he supposed he could just wait in Storybrooke for him to return. That seemed like a better option. His plan could collapse on itself if she thought he didn't have a reason to go back to Storybrooke. If he found out the Crocodile was somewhere else, she would assume he would go there and stop wanting to help her. He couldn't let that happen, so he decided against asking. The Crocodile would certainly return to Storybrooke eventually. One of the things he had found out about him over the years was the value he placed in his possessions. His shop contained many of those. His Belle included on the list of things, that would cause him to return there.

Killian had seen them talking on the road before he had shot her. They had been so happy, so in love, it had been sickening as well as rage fuelling. Why did he deserve happiness? Why did he get to move on? Why did that horrible man get a chance at happiness and all he got was the haunting memory of Milah. Had been some of the thoughts floating in his mind before he had shot her.

Killian thought of Emma. He supposed he had gotten to move on. He still loved Milah and he would still avenge her, but he was no longer _in_ love with her. He hadn't been for a long time. Now when he closed his eyes, all he saw was his beautiful Swan's smiling face.

Killian quickened his pace, as though if he walked faster he could outpace his thoughts. What happened to not thinking about her? Killian sighed and redirected his thoughts appropriately, towards locating a road sign. This plan would work, he was sure of it. Because if it didn't, he would be all out of options. Killian brushed away his doubts. He could manage this, it was simple. Get Emma back to her son. He already had the complication of being in love with her, when she shouldn't and didn't love him back. He was quite sure that nothing would be able to surpass that. There couldn't be anything that would make it any harder than it already was. He could do this. For her, he could do anything.

* * *

Henry smiled to himself as he, Grace, and Greg walked down to the Marina. School had just finished and they were wasting no time. They had decided that today they would go to search for the Captain Hook, or at least for anything useful upon his ship. If Hook was part of his mother's disappearance, they might find some clues on his ship. Though deep down, Henry's gut told him it was more likely Gold's fault.

Greg had actually wanted to go to Gold's shop today, instead of the pirate ship, but Grace had convinced him to change his mind, by giving him a puppy dog look. Henry couldn't blame her. He couldn't believe he was about to go on a real pirate ship! Henry didn't know much about the Captain himself though, his story wasn't in Henry's book. But he did know that pirates could be dangerous, so he had taken his wooden sword with him, as a precaution.

Henry thought back to the previous night. Dinner with Grace and Greg had been fun. It was still weird around Regina and Cora, but Henry was slowly getting used to their strange personalities. Greg and Regina had seemed to get along well, which was good. Greg's plan of befriending her seemed to be working. Henry was happy, everything seemed to be going their way as of late, but he was hesitant to speak his thoughts out loud, in case he jinxed it.

The sky was quite dark for the time of day. Big angry grey clouds were slowly moving to cover the sun. There was a coming storm, it was forecasted to hit tomorrow. But at the speed the wind was going, Henry wouldn't be surprised if the impending onslaught of rain started tonight.

They were now walking down the pier, passing by many small boats. They all looked old and unused, Henry wondered who they belonged to. Though his thoughts were however interrupted by Greg as he asked,

"I don't see any ships. Are you sure it's here?" Greg was looking around the pier sceptically.

"Yes, its invisible, didn't I tell you that?" Henry recalled mentioned it, but then again, he could have just been talking to Grace.

"No." Greg answered surprised. Apparently it had just been Grace then.

"Oh, well it is. Archie told me about it." Henry said proudly. His friend hadn't been too willing to talk details of his experience on the pirate ship, so Henry hadn't pushed him. At the time he had just come back from the dead, and Henry had been too busy hugging him and being happy to press for further information. Though now, looking around the empty pier, he kind of wished he had. Henry's eyes scanned the pier for anything out of the ordinary, but he couldn't find anything.

"Hey, look over there!" Grace exclaimed pointing excitedly. Henry looked to the direction she was pointing, and tipped his head back to see.

"It's a bird." Greg observed. He was right, because sure enough perched on thin air was a bird and not far away from that a few others were circling. This must be the ship, Henry thought.

"We found it." He said smiling. Grace grinned and grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the invisible ship.

"Hurry up Greg." She shouted over her shoulder, at Greg who had frozen in place. Henry looked at him, the man had the strangest expression on his face, Henry couldn't quite place the emotion behind it. But it was soon wiped from his features as a smile overtook it.

"Coming Grace." He said hurrying to match the quick stride she was setting. Henry turned back to look where Grace was pulling him. Luckily he turned around just in time to step over a hole in the pier, that would have caused him to fall over. But then Grace suddenly stopped and Henry nearly walked right into her. He looked around her to see what had caused her to stop, it was part of the gangplank. They turned to look at each other, grinning in equal fervour. Wasting no time, they both hopped up onto it and walked through the invisible barrier, Greg following closely behind.

When all three made it upon the deck, they looked around in awe. But for Henry it was that plus something else, it was recognition. This was the exact ship from his dream. When he had dreamed of Captain Hook and Cora getting hit with a falling house. So another thing he had dreamed right. It was strange and Henry wondered if magic had anything to do with his eerily accurate dream. But then again, magic was almost always the answer whenever something strange happen, so Henry found that he wouldn't be very surprised if it was.

After the initial gawking at the great vessel was over, the search began. Henry started to scour the deck with Grace, and Greg started on below deck. When Henry and Grace had looked over everything above deck and found nothing, Henry decided to go and see how Greg was doing. Grace however was determined to be certain there was nothing there. So she said she'd quickly double check, and then join him.

Henry treaded down the worn wooden steps to bellow deck. It was eerily quiet and Henry wondered where Greg was. But after he went into the main area, where all the cots where, he saw another door on the far side. It was slightly ornate and Henry guessed that it must be the Captain's quarters. The door was slightly open and Henry suddenly heard some shuffling and opening of draws emanating from it. That must be Greg, he thought, as he headed over there. Henry pushed the door open with some force. Apparently more than he had intended because it swung around and hit the wall with a thump. Greg stood in the middle of the room and he jumped at the slamming door. When he saw that it was Henry his posture relaxed and he exhaled a sigh.

"Jeez Henry, you scared me."

"Sorry. Did you find anything yet?" Henry asked hopefully. He really wanted to find something on Hook. The fact that he had been forgotten too, meant that he was very much connected to whatever happened to Emma and Henry had a feeling that something on his ship might show them how. Or at least that was what he was hoping. They had had incredible luck so far with _Operation Dragonfly_ and Henry just prayed that it continued.

"No, you?" Greg replied.

"No." Henry answered sombrely and frowned, maybe their luckwouldn't continue after all. Greg noticed his frown and gave him an encouraging half smile.

"We'll find something." He said determinedly, like he could will it to be true. His resolute tone made Henry regain some of his confidence.

"We will?" He asked, hope starting to flood back into him.

"Yes. Now help me search this cabin. I'm sure there will be something useful in here." Henry followed the order diligently and turned to the nearby wooden desk. He started to rifle through the various papers decorating its surface. They looked mainly like maps, but Henry couldn't make any sense of them. It was then that he noticed a waste basket. It looked to contain many discarded scrunched up balls of paper. Henry figured it might be worth looking through. He dumped its contents on top of the desk and started to sort through it.

The majority of it was illegible. Pieces of writing started but then crossed out in ink. There was a couple of drawing of knots and other parts of a ship, each crumpled up. Henry had to fold them out gently to see. There were quite good drawings, Henry was surprised, he didn't know pirates could draw. Other than a few smudges of ink they were in excellent shape. Henry especially liked one, of what looked like the beginnings of drawing the ship. The sails had been done and part of the deck, but there were a few drops of ink on part of one of the sails and a random line across the page from the unfinished deck, seeming to have been drawn in frustration. Henry folded this one and pocketed it.

After going through another couple of illegible pieces of crossed out writing. Henry found something very interesting. He had un-scrunched a ball of paper, expecting it to be another useless piece, instead it wasn't. At first glance he had thought it had been blank, but then he had noticed two words in the top corner of the page.

'_Dear Emma,'_

After that there was nothing expect for a few ink spots as though he had held the pen, well he supposed, _quill _over the page spending too long trying to decide what to write, causing the ink to drip.

"Greg." Henry said. There must have been something in his tone, because Greg rushed over to him very quickly.

"Yes. Did you- oh." He said obviously seeing the paper over Henry's shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?" Graces voice came from the door of the cabin. Henry turned to face her.

"Here." He said passing the paper to her. Grace's eyebrows screwed up in confusion as she examined his find.

"Captain Hook wrote a letter to your mom?" She asked confused, looking up at both of them.

"Well he apparently started to. Did they know each other, Henry?" Greg questioned.

"Yeah, she met him when she was stuck in the Enchanted Forest. She didn't say much about him though. Just that he was a pirate and a lot different to the Hook we know of in this world." Henry answered scratching his head. He looked at Greg, who just looked as puzzled as Henry felt.

"I wonder what he was going to write." Grace stated ponderingly and Henry couldn't help but wonder too.

"Well, keep it. It's more proof, even though it is written from a man that the town also doesn't remember, I think we'll have to make use of anything we find." Greg said logically and Henry nodded. He reached out for it and Grace handed it back to him. Henry then proceeded to fold it up and place it next to the ship drawing in his pocket.

The search continued, but Henry didn't come across anything more, that could be useful. The Pirate had surprisingly few possessions. All Henry found was a couple of chests of treasure, maps, drawings and the Pirate Captain's clothes. When he came across the treasure he was tempted to keep some of it, but then instantly thought better of it. Stealing was stupid, but if there was something stupider, it would have to be stealing from a pirate.

Henry walked out from the Captain's cabin, to the main area of the below deck, where Greg and Grace were. Grace saw him immediately.

"Found anything?" She asked brightly. Grace's amount of cheerfulness and her constant faith that they would find something and fix everything, never ceased to amaze Henry. It made him glad of her presence, when Grace was around everything seemed a little easier.

"Nope." Henry answered, "You?"

"No," She sighed, "I think the letter was all there really was. But it's okay, we still have to check Gold's shop and I'm sure there will be lots of useful things there." Grace said with a smile. Henry smiled back.

"Do you think we should call it a day?" Henry asked, directing his question at Greg as well as Grace.

"I think so. Sorry Henry, I'm sure Grace is right. We'll have better luck tomorrow at Gold's shop." Henry studied Greg. He was grateful for the reassurances, but there was a strange look in Greg's eye. Not unlike the one he had seen before they had gone on the ship. But Henry was tired and probably seeing things, it was likely nothing.

"Okay." He replied and started to walk up the stairs to the top of the ship. Greg and Grace followed him up.

* * *

Emma's head was spinning. She felt like she was blindfolded and strapped to one of those spinning carnival rides. Everything was dark and she too distracted by the spinning to really think about anything. But there was a loud bang, the sound of cursing and then another less loud bang. The noise disrupted Emma's spinning and slowly the world of consciousness rose up to meet her. She tried to open her eyes but they felt glued shut. Emma felt horribly disorientated. She wasn't to sit up, but she wasn't quite sure which way up was. Suddenly her brain registered that the bang had been the sound of the door being thrown open. Door, house, cabin, couch...

"Bloody wind." The same voice that had cursed said angrily. Emma eyes flew open, that voice, it was so familiar... But everything was still a jumble in her head. Emma decided to try and stand up. Apparently that was a bad idea. All her muscles ached and shook at her attempt and she fell back down. A jolt of pain shot through her as her body hit the floor, she let out an involuntarily gasp.

"Emma?" The voice questioned sounding worried. The sound of footsteps soon followed. Emma's eyes were screwed up in pain, but she opened then in time to see Killian take in the sight of her on the ground.

"Emma, are you all right?" He said sounding alarmed. Everything came back to her in a rush and she fought the urge to shut her eyes against the memories.

Instead Emma just stared at him. _She loved him_. No, don't think about that, she commanded herself. But she couldn't help it, and thinking about left her unable to form words, so she was just lying there staring at him. Which was awkward, because she was pretty sure that he was waiting for an answer to his question.

"Emma?!" His voice was raising to a panic at her lack of response. He got down on the floor next to her, reaching for her; to check or pulse or shake her, Emma wasn't sure. He had a wild glint to his eyes, a desperation that made what he was thinking or about to do hard to predict.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." She managed to get out. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, his shoulders slumped and he turned, in his sitting position, to lean against the side of the couch.

"God Emma, don't do that." He whispered on an exhale of breath. His head was tipped back and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily and irregularly, but it was gradually slowing down to a normal rate. He was mere inches away from where she was lying down. Her foot was nearly touching him. He was too close. She slid herself into a sitting position, wincing slightly when her leg bumped the coffee table. As though he sensed her pain, Killian's eyes opened and he gave her a slightly sceptical look.

"You're fine?"

"Mostly." Emma admitted reluctantly. "I tried what you said, and tried to heal my leg using magic. But it's different using magic here than Storybrooke. It was damn near impossible at first. I managed to do it eventually, but I knocked myself out in the processes."

"Emma." Killian said with wide eyes. "If it was hard, you should have stopped. Magic is dangerous, you could have killed yourself." He declared angrily.

"But I didn't." Emma replied stubbornly. She wasn't really angry with him, more herself. The little voice saying that how upset he was, wasn't normal for someone who was supposedly just a ticket to his revenge. So Emma ignored the voice, because she was nowhere near ready, to think more on her revelation yet. She pushed it to the side of her mind and tried her hardest to focus on the conversation at hand. Admittedly, it would be easier if the feelings that she was trying not the think about, were not for the person she was currently talking to.

Killian was still looking at her angrily. But it dissolved as he let out a laugh and a long sigh.

"My, my, lass. You are a tough one. So stubborn." Killian shook his head smiling. His voice was laced with affection. Yep, definitely not helping with her 'ignoring certain thoughts' issue. Then he suddenly looked up at her from under his lashes, a slightly more devious smile in place. "Darling, you're staring." She was, so she quickly looked away. But realised too late, that she had basically just admitted that she had been. Her eyes flicked back to him and she saw his smile turn to a grin. She hung her head slightly, in shame.

"Sorry." She mumbled. But apparently she hadn't been quiet enough, because she practically felt the smirk on his face.

"Don't be sorry, most women-"

"-I'm not most women." But Emma cut him off, looking up at him.

"Too right, lass." He said, his blue eyes regarding her fondly. Emma was suddenly aware of how close they were. Somehow she was right next to him. She started to lean forward and then he started to lean in too. But then he stopped, he hesitated and pulled back. It was a fraction of an inch of movement, but Emma was so aware of him that she noticed. For her it didn't seem like an inch, it felt like a mile. Suddenly she was thinking about it. Everything she felt for him and all her doubts. All of her worries, her fears, and before she knew she had done it, her mouth was moving to form words.

"Tell me about Milah?" She blurted, and was greeted by his previously dancing blue eyes, darkening to almost black.

"What about her?" He replied instantly. His tone was clearly suggesting that he wanted to anything but talk on this. Emma didn't know what it was, maybe it was the fact that he hadn't outright closed off to the topic or her recent acknowledgment of her feelings, that made her push on. All Emma knew, was that she just had to know.

"What happened to her?" Emma asked gently.

"She's dead." He said as if that left no room for any more answers. Although it felt like pushing him more would be crossing a line, Emma did.

"How?" Her voice softer again. He looked at her bewildered, as though he couldn't believe she was asking him. He swallowed hard, a dark look swallowing up his features. His fist clenched and unclenched as rage began the seethe off him in waves. After a few silent seconds, he began to speak.

"She... I met her at a bar. She was alive, brilliant, a dreamer. She was enthralled by my tales and she shared hers. She was trapped in a marriage with a coward. She didn't love him and living her life the way she was, was killing her. Even I could see as much. Milah wasn't made to sit still, Milah was made for adventure." He voice had grown wistful and Emma's heart twisted painfully in her chest, at the longing look in his eyes. "We fell in love and she escaped with me. She had a son, but she was too in love with escaping from her misery, to stay with him. She reasoned that he still had his father, that he would be fine and that we could go back for him when he was old enough." Killian's voice lots its wistful edge and he practically spitted the next part. "The coward himself, came upon my ship on the day we were to leave. I didn't think much of him, he was pathetic. He begged to have his wife back, but he wouldn't fight for her. If he truly loved her he would have fought for her, he didn't deserve her. After that, started the happy years. The time when it was just me and Milah. The first time in my life when I had been truly happy, ever..."

Killian's face contorted in pain as the next part of his tale, probably played in his head. Emma wondered if he had ever let himself think about this. She thought it was highly likely he hadn't and Emma didn't blame him. She knew what it was like to have memories you just wanted to forget. The problem was when one bad memory ruined all your good memories. It was like that with Neal. They had had good times together, but when Emma thought back on them, all she could feel was the pain from his abandonment. Her and Neal hadn't really been together that long. Killian had spent years with Milah, that meant he had years of his life ruined. Emma reached out her hand and grabbed his, squeezing it reassuringly. He didn't even blink at the contact, but he did start speaking again.

"There was another bar. In fact, it might have been the same one from when I first met her. But that was the night I ran into him again. He had become the Dark One. But I didn't know at first I laughed and poked fun calling him a Crocodile. But when he lifted his hood and I recognised him I was scared to death. He asked about Milah and I did the only thing I could think of. I lied. I-I told him that she was dead. He believed me and told me that the this night would be my last, because tomorrow he would duel me, and kill me. He promised to gut my crew if I tried to escape. I told Milah. She wanted to leave, but I knew we couldn't. If we did it would be like killing my crew with my own sword. And he would always be looking for me and who was to say he wouldn't find out about Milah. She still wouldn't let me go, so I had to lie to her too. I promised that I wasn't going to die, she believed me too. But I had to, so I snuck out and faced him. I was ready to die. I would happily die to keep my crew and my Milah safe. It would be an honourable death. But it didn't quite work out that way. Whatever the Crocodile has his hands in never does." Killian paused, his original anger surfacing once more. "Milah obviously found that I was gone and I don't know how she did it but she found me, right as the Crocodile was going to rip out my heart. She tried to bargain for our lives with an offer she knew he couldn't refuse. He nearly accepted the deal right then and there. I could see how much he wanted to. I didn't know what he wanted with a magic bean, but at the time judging by the look in his eye, I thought we were in the clear. I thought we would be fine. He asked to see it. So we brought him to my ship. Milah showed it to him and then threw it to me. She asked whether they had a deal. It was that moment that I had the inkling of a feeling that something was wrong. He started yelling at her about her son and demanding to know how she could have left him. And then he had his hand in her chest. I tried to stop him but he used his damned magic to stop me. He pulled her heart out and crushed it, right in front of me. She was his wife, he killed his own wife in cold blood. He then cut off my hand in an attempt to get the bean. He was a monster and I knew he had to pay for his sins. I attacked him with this." Killian said raising his hook. "But it did no good. His magic protected him. I vowed my revenge and then he just laughed at me and disappeared in a bout of evil smoke." At this time Killian was shaking with rage. He tried to sigh, but it was staggered, apparently doing nothing to ease his emotional tension. He looked at her for the first time in his telling and continued.

"Everything has to end eventually, but our time was nowhere near over and the Crocodile took that from me. He took my love, my happiness and that is why I plan to take his life." Killian turned his gaze away from hers and stared at his hook. "That is why I have to kill him. I have to have my revenge for Milah."

Emma didn't know what to say. It felt like her heart was breaking. But she knew, she always knew he loved Milah. She had told herself time and time again that he loved Milah and only Milah. But she was stupid and had hoped that maybe he could move on. He obviously couldn't. His revenge was all that mattered to him. But she still loved him and now she was just sad. She was sad for him and how much pain he had to endure, how much pain he just had to relive, to tell her what she had known all along. Now she knew for sure that whatever fantasies she had entertained of them being together, were just that, fantasy. He had spent hundreds of years trying to avenge the women he loved. If that wasn't true love, she didn't know what was. And that meant, that he would never move on, he was stuck living in the past, there would be nothing else for him. His love was dead and soon he would be too. Because Emma finally understood why he wanted to die getting his revenge, because it really was his only reason for living. They would get back to Storybrooke and he would die. Emma suddenly felt conflicted. All she had wanted this whole time was to get back home to Henry. But now getting back meant Killian's death. He couldn't die, she-

"We're even now." Killian's voice interrupted her quickly spiralling thoughts.

"What?" She said finding him standing up. She stood up as well, her muscles protested slightly, but she managed to get to her feet.

"You told me about you're past, and now I've told you about mine. Even." Killian said with no hint of emotion in his words. He knew she remembered last night. But how? She hadn't told him, how did he know she remembered?

"How did you know?" Emma voiced her wondering.

"Open book." He said rolling her eyes like he had said it a million times. "Now I'm tired after spending a long day searching and coming up with nothing. So I'm going to get some rest, so I can do it again tomorrow. Although hopefully find out where we are, unlike today. So I can leave this damn place, and finally finish my revenge." Emma felt like she had been slapped in the face.

Killian just walked out of the room and up the stairs, apparently off to go to sleep. Emma sat down on the couch. Unmoving for a long while, until she silent sobs started to shake her body. She grabbed a nearby pillow and shoved her face into it to muffle the sound of her cries. She wasn't sure exactly why she was crying, but couldn't stop. Emma wept and wept, until there were no more tears. She fell back onto the couch, falling into a hollow dreamless sleep, almost instantly.

* * *

**A/N 2: Geez, I was attempted to leave out the last scene, because it was just a pain to write. But I'm quite happy with how it turned out.**

**Good news, the back story chapter which I have had planned since forever, is going to be either the next chapter or the one after that.**

**I'm hoping for the next chapter, but we'll see.**

**So sorry again for the wait.**

**Also sorry for any errors, figured y'all would want it ASAP. :)**

**Review? ~ Auream Lucem**


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